Can We Be Whole Again?
by SidsCookies
Summary: A surprise decision may give Margaret the family she desperately wants in the wake of her parents passing. However, there are still many obstacles to overcome before she can find peace.
1. Chapter 1

Can we be whole again?

A/N: For this story to make sense where I begin it, I've made the minor change of Mr Hale passing away in Milton instead of Oxford. The plot from this point on is my own, with all characters and places lovingly borrowed from Elizabeth Gaskell. I am also not a professional historian or linguist, so there may be some inaccuracies in the way the characters speak. I've tried to keep as true to the period as possible.

Chapter 1

"…Following the arrest of Captain Reid for theft, after he was discovered stealing money intended for his officers' payroll, he confessed to his abusive behaviour which led to the infamous mutiny where he and his other officers were cast from the ship in a lone boat. Therefore, it has been the decision of Her Majesty's Navy, to offer a full and free pardon to the involved officers. Many of these pardons will be awarded posthumously, and Her Majesty's Navy will personally oversee exhumation and reburial of officers already tried and hanged from where they are presently located in Broadmoor Prison. Their names, as well as the names of officers believed to be alive and in exile are listed below…"

It was the custom of Hannah Thornton to read the newspaper aloud as her son John was usually so preoccupied with eating breakfast and finalising any mill papers he would need that day that he often did not have the time to read it himself. He listened with half an ear; his mind too full of the tragedies which had shook Milton. Barely a month after the death of his wife, Richard Hale had been discovered dead in his bed one morning by his own daughter Margaret. You could hear her wails a street away when the undertaker arrived for the body. The sound still haunted John's dreams, as well as the torment of not being able to rush to her side and hold her, as John had yearned to.

Nevertheless, once the formalities of the funeral had been conducted, Margaret had been ushered back to London by her Aunt. Prior to their departure, Margaret was brought to Malborough Mills by her Aunt to formally take leave of her friends. She had recited all the formalities promptly enough, but her eyes stared without seeing. John was not even sure she knew where she was. She recovered herself long enough to bestow her father's copy of Plato upon John, with an earnest plea to treasure it for her. He had stared her straight in the eye when he vowed that he would never give it up. She had stared at him then, before the fire in her eyes that had so entranced John in the beginning dulled once more and she slipped that unfathomable blank mask back on.

Once she was safely ensconced back in London, everyone had assumed that to be the end of it. Save the occasional remark for poor Miss Hale, orphaned with no other immediate family left to her, and no dowry bequeathed to attract a husband, regular mention of the Hale family soon slipped from the Thorntons' circle of acquaintances altogether. That had been some three months ago, and the promised letters to Fanny never arrived. Clearly Margaret had been utterly relieved to be able to quit Milton, despite the heavy losses she had sustained in the process and had no compunctions about throwing off all connections she had made with the place. John, for his part, was sure she had more than likely resumed communication with the secret lover he had discovered her with at Outwood Station and was merely biding her time for her formal mourning to be over. He himself was only indignant on Fanny's behalf. He knew that despite some of her comments, Fanny had been fond of Margaret in her own way and had been keen to carry on the acquaintance.

The sound of his mother breaking off her sentence with an "Oh" snapped John's attention back to her.

"What is it Mother?"

"There's a fellow in this officers list by the name of Hale. I merely wondered if he was a relation of Miss Hale or her parents. The Navy believe him to still be alive"

"I am sure Miss Hale will be able to contact him if that is the case. I do not see a need for you to be too concerned Mother"

The cold steel underlying his voice halted Hannah Thornton's tongue, and the topic of the unknown Mr. Hale did not enter John's head again. That was, until a few weeks later.

After the Sunday service, John and his mother decided to walk home through the cemetery in order to pay respects to Mr and Mrs Hale. Upon entering the graveyard, John looked up to the hill where he knew their gravestones to be and started in surprise. A young man stood in front of the headstones with his head turned up to the sky. John and Hannah approached him slowly, but a stick snapping under John's shoe turned the stranger's attention to them with a rapid turn of his head, and John almost swore out loud with surprise. It was the man he had spied with Margaret at the station, and a noticeable widening of his eyes told him that this man remembered that evening as well. His mother, unaware of the connection, decided to confirm the suspicions her sharp mind had already formed.

"Good afternoon, we've come to the pay our respects to the late Mr and Mrs Hale. Were you acquainted with them?"

The man stared at Mrs Thornton, slightly slack jawed, before drawing in a great breath and speaking almost all at once, such a rush he was in to gain information.

"You knew my mother and father? Please, tell me what you can about my father's passing. I was able to be here for Mother, but I did not know that Father would follow so soon! And Margaret? Please tell me where my sister has gone. Tell me she is not alone in her grief. I am only sorry that I was not here for her sooner. We are both orphans now, we should be together. Please, tell me you know where my sister is!"

Mrs Thornton had attempted to interject once or twice with answers to his many questions but decided on the whole to let him talk himself into calm.

John, on the other hand, was fighting a bizarre desire to laugh, knowing it was not an appropriate response. This man that had tormented his dreams with images of his arms around Miss Hale, had simply been her brother.

"Before we tell you anything, I believe introductions are in order. My name is Hannah Thornton. This is my son, John. We live over at Malborough Mills. Pray, tell us your name," said Hannah, aware that the man was close to hysterics.

"My name is Frederick Hale"

"I recall seeing your name in the paper. You are one of the recently pardoned officers from Captain Reid's regiment, are you not?"

"That is correct Madam. An old Navy acquaintance tipped me off about the Navy's decision and I set out for home to – "

Their conversation was cut off by an ominous rumble of thunder, and they all three looked up to see ugly black clouds rolling in, having silently crept up on them.

"Come to take some tea with us, we will be able to carry on this conversation more privately," John offered to Frederick, puzzle pieces finally sliding together in his head.

They had all made it to the warmth and shelter of Malborough Mills just in time. Jane had barely closed the door behind them when the rain began coming down in unrelenting sheets. It was against this gloomy backdrop that Frederick Hale learned of the fate of his father. Now he was able to gain a better look at him than the fleeting glimpse at the station, John noticed with increasing discomfort Fredericks' resemblance to the sister John couldn't now think of without shame and regret. Their hair was the same soft shade of brown and even had the same slight curl to it. John estimated him to be a head taller than Miss Hale standing. His face currently had the same expression of melancholy that his sister had so frequently worn in the last weeks of their acquaintance. It pulled the corners of his mouth down into the same small frown.

"… An old Navy acquaintance who I went through training with alerted me to Captain Reid's arrest and the decision to pardon the mutineers. His arrest unearthed a catalogue of unconscionable behaviour. He has been detained and awaiting trial himself from my understanding," Frederick explained with a grim smile. The Captain's downfall had come too little too late for Frederick Hale, who returned home to find himself an orphan. He recollected himself and carried on his tale.

"I packed what I could and set off on the first available boat from where I'd been living in Spain. My wife and I agreed that if I were ever to be allowed back to England then we would come and build a life here. I remembered the way to Milton from my last journey. Except this time I arrive to find the house empty and no one inclined to tell me anything about the Hales. I decided to visit Mother's grave, found Father's next to her and no sign anywhere of my sister, some small mercy perhaps. Strange as it sounds, I was praying for help when I looked around and saw you standing there. The Lord does move mysteriously" Fred mused with a wry smile. John remembered Margaret sporting a similar smile when she was teasing him over something or other.

"For now, we can simply assure you that your sister is safe. She was taken back to London by your Aunt Shaw who was the only available family member," Mrs Thornton explained to Fred. She had not meant the last part unkindly, but he still visibly winced. Then he smiled.

"I should have known Aunt Shaw would take her in. Margaret passed most of her childhood in London with Aunt Shaw and Cousin Edith. She's probably having a dreadful time, she always found it drearily dull in London"

"What will you do now?" John asked.

"I think I will travel back into Milton and try to find some cheap lodgings. I will write to my sister explaining where I am, and a letter to Aunt Shaw begging her to accommodate me. I will travel when I am surer of my welcome"

Just then, another clap of thunder sounded overhead that rattled the windowpanes in its ferocity. The rain hammered down even harder, momentarily convincing John that thousands of angry workers had returned to pelt the house with stones. Hannah Thornton gave her son a pointed look.

"Mr Hale" – John winced as he said it, only a few hours ago convinced it was an address he would never use again – "There is little sense and even less honour in turning a guest away in weather so abominable as this when that guest has no certain abode to return to. You may remain here until you are prepared for your travel to London, if you are agreeable to my suggestion"

Fred nodded "I'm grateful to you Mr. Thornton, for your generosity. My father and sister always spoke highly of you during my last brief visit. Margaret in fact admonished me when I voiced less than charitable opinions of the people of Milton, and for those opinions I am sorry," he said, staring at Mr. Thornton so earnestly that he knew Frederick was telling the absolute truth. In amidst the chaos of his day, the thought that Miss Hale spoke in defence of him gave him no small amount of cheer. Mrs. Thornton nodded her agreement at the arrangements and had just reached for the bell to ring for Jane when the girl herself knocked and came in.

"Apologies Mrs Thornton, Mr. Thornton. There's a Captain Lennox and a Mr. Henry Lennox come to see you. Shall I show them in?"

Lennox. John recalled the name and remembered the gentleman who'd accompanied Miss Hale to the Great Exhibition. Mostly he remembered the man's infuriatingly smug expression as he'd flaunted his connection with Miss Hale, goading the man with snide remarks. He reasoned that they were here to enquire about Frederick, and so nodded to Jane to admit them with a painfully tight grimace.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

At the mention of a Captain, Frederick became slightly panicked. John, somewhat awkwardly, attempted to soothe him.

"I met Mr Henry Lennox when he accompanied your sister to the Great Exhibition. The Lennoxes are connected to your family. The exact nature of the connection I cannot remember, but I am sure they mean you no harm"

Fred, still slightly wide eyed, simply nodded at Mr Thornton and made a small display of smoothing down his shirt front. Jane opened the door again and brought Captain and Mr Lennox into the room. The contrast between them was almost comical. Captain Lennox was tall and looked quite jovial, Mr Lennox shorter and quite sullen looking. They both swept small bows to Mr Thornton and thanked him for admitting them.

Captain Lennox gazed around the room, spotted Frederick attempting to shrink into his seat and seemed quite delighted to see him.

"You must be Frederick. Jolly good that you're here already, that's saved us a job of traipsing all over Milton looking for you. When we arrived, we enquired after acquaintances of the Hales and were told to call on the Thorntons of Malborough Mills. And a good thing we were welcomed so readily!"

It was an incredibly bemused Fred that responded to the Captain's warm overtures.

"Thankyou Captain. Ah – forgive me, I don't think I've had the pleasure of being introduced to you and your companion?"

"By Jove, where are our manners? My name is Captain Maxwell Lennox. I am your cousin by marriage, as your lovely Edith did me the greatest pleasure of accepting my hand. This is my brother Henry, currently working in London as a barrister"

Henry offered Frederick a small, tight smile. He then gave his brother a pointed look, whose own expression became quite solemn. John was suddenly struck with a sense of foreboding.

Frederick hadn't noticed this and answered brightly.

"Is my cousin well? I am so happy for her, she always dreamed of being a soldier's wife. I suppose Aunt Shaw knows of my situation and has sent you to fetch me. I am at your disposal gentleman; I shall be ready to travel when you see fit. Can you bring me word of my sister? I am surprised she is not here with you – perhaps she is refreshing herself from the journey?" Fred peered around them hopefully, and again missed the very dark look the Lennox brothers exchanged. John's sense of foreboding increased.

"About that lad. You are correct, your Aunt Shaw did send us to fetch you, and I am afraid Margaret was unable to join us for the journey. There is something we must prepare you for, although I am not sure we should divulge this in company," said Captain Lennox, casting an anxious glance at the Thorntons.

"We were well acquainted with Miss Hale. Whatever news you have of her health, we would like to hear as well," Mrs. Thornton told the Lennoxes in her usual cool tones, before instructing Jane to fetch them all fresh cups of tea. Fred, now understanding that all was not well, began glancing between the Captain and his brother. Jane brought in the requested tea. Captain Lennox and Henry took a seat and their audience prepared themselves for the worst.

"Before I tell you Fred, be well assured that Margaret is alive and every possible care is being taken for her. We will travel as soon as we are able so that you can see her again," Captain Lennox began.

"Alive? Every possible care? Dear God, what has happened to my sister?!" Fred demanded.

"It began as normal things for someone who is deep in mourning. Eating little at meals, retiring early in the evenings. We did not think to check it as we thought she would recover on her own" Captain Lennox took a moment to pause. John was in turmoil. Nothing prepared him for what came next, as the Lennoxes were not finished.

"Then she started having nightmares. Dreadful things, the entire household could hear her screaming. Not long after they started, she began refusing meals altogether and had to be encouraged to rise from her bed in the morning. Then one morning, she rose on her own and called for a bath, and we thought she was improving. She sat in that bath and scrubbed herself until her skin was red and blistering. When the maid tried to take the brush from her, she screamed that she was still not clean and sent the maid out. It took the combined strength of the maid, Aunt Shaw and Edith to pull her out of the bath. Within 2 hours she was calm and had no recollection of the incident"

Lennox took another pause, and Fred finally responded.

"So, she is a little sad and is behaving oddly. What can be so grave and serious about that?" Fred demanded, though his tone seemed to be begging that the Lennoxes tale was over. John was not so optimistic. This Aunt Shaw would not have searched Fred out so soon if she were not seriously concerned. Captain Lennox looked at Fred sadly, and Henry took over the tale.

"Later in the evening, a maid went to check on Margaret and found that she had emptied the entire contents of her wardrobe and was attempting to lace herself into a ballgown quite by herself. When asked what she was dressing for, she replied that she was dressing for the dinner her and her parents had been invited to. The dinner at the Thorntons' house. She was speaking as if your dear departed mother were in the room, staring at the chair by her bed the whole time. The maid went to fetch Aunt Shaw, who came in and gently explained that she was not in Milton with her mother, but in London and that your parents had passed away. Margaret then began sobbing, and did not stop for a full three hours"

Henry explained all this very quickly and in his usual business-like tones. Perhaps thinking that it would be better for Fred to hear all of this very quickly and divested of any emotion.

"Fred, the doctor is of the opinion that your sister has suffered a complete mental collapse. The grief of losing both parents in so short a space of time, the circumstances in which they left Helstone and the stress of your… situation has simply overwrought the poor girl," Captain Lennox explained softly.

"There is also some business of a head injury which the doctor is concerned may have caused more damage than first thought," Henry Lennox added, with a suspicious glance at John, who merely returned the glower. It felt as though Lennox was accusing him of hurling the rock himself, which riled him greatly. Hannah was merely thankful that Fanny was not here to listen to this. The foolish girl would not be able to keep a secret and this was not something she wanted known in the wider circles of Milton. Miss Hale had suffered enough as a topic of gossip without now being thought a lunatic.

Fred was digesting all the information he had been given with a look of anguish. John understood that look. Frederick was blaming himself for his sister's fate, feeling that his absence had left her to shoulder this immense burden alone and she had broken under it. Finally, he settled on one question out of the scores flying around his head.

"What is being done for my sister's care?"

"She remains in London," Captain Lennox told him, "The doctor recommended an institution, but your Aunt Shaw would not hear of it". As he said it, he could remember vividly his mother-in-law unleashing her scorn on the poor doctor.

"_My niece has suffered quite enough! You insult the memory of my sister by suggesting that we, her only family, abandon her in that foul place! Has this child not suffered enough loss and heartbreak, without being given up by all the family she has left in the world? You insult my honour as her guardian with the very suggestion, and I bid you good day sir!" _

"She remains in Harley Street, being cared for by Aunt Shaw and Edith, and the ever-devoted Dixon. She is supervised all hours of the day, and someone is always on hand to talk through her memories with her, as she is prone to becoming muddled and consequently very distressed. She eats very little, preferring to drink tea, though she is being persuaded to take a little soup in her teacups. I think she is over the worst of her condition, and the sight of you and knowing you will be able to stay with her shall help recover her spirits marvellously!" the captain concluded his report, attempting to inject some enthusiasm into his voice at the end, desperate to keep Fred's hopes up after having to impart such a sorry tale.

"When can you take me to see her?"

"We purchased three tickets back to London when we arrived. All goes well we shall be able to depart tomorrow, pray God this weather relents"

"There is simply the issue of arranging lodgings for ourselves back in Milton," Henry Lennox mentioned with a furrowed brow.

"I have already agreed to host Mr. Hale for the night. I would be happy to extend the invitation for you as well, gentleman," John finally mustered himself to speak. He had listened to the tale unfold with growing horror. It was some small mercy that she was not dangerously ill. But an illness of the mind? There was no telling how long it could take to recover from this, if she ever recovered at all. She could end up being committed, or dependant on some medicine or other for the rest of her life. His heart broke for her, so much misery for one soul to bear! Margaret had tried too hard to be strong for too long and it had torn her mind apart. John wouldn't wish such a fate on his worst enemy.

Looking slightly shattered in the wake of the afternoon's revelations, Hannah roused herself to go and instruct the servants to prepare the guest room and Fanny's old bedroom for guests and to prepare for additions to the dinner table, leaving the gentlemen to sit in rather shocked silence. Fred and John were both slumped in their seats, looking rather battered.

Fred's thoughts were going around in circles. His poor sister. She'd been alone suffering while he had been hiding in Spain like a coward. It had not been easy, a life of false names and constantly looking over his shoulder, but it seemed now a life of ease compared to what Margaret must have been suffering. To be brought to this place for a new life, only for that life to crumble around her ears. Her closest family and friend carried off to a place she could not reach them. The suffering she had witnessed and endured had torn her apart from the inside and he, her older brother who should have protected her, had been powerless to help her. Part of him wanted to dam the practicalities and set off for London right now. He was desperate to see his sister and begin to put right the tragic wrongs that fate had done to her.

After a dinner conducted mostly in silence, save for the usual pleasantries and compliments of the cooking, John showed his guests to their quarters. Fanny's old bedroom, being the largest, was to accommodate the Lennox brothers. Fred was to take the guest bedroom.

"Mr Hale, if you require anything, the servants are at your disposal," John could not conceal the pain that using that formerly forgotten address caused, least of all to the surprisingly astute Frederick Hale.

"Mr Thornton, I see the pain using that address causes you, as it invokes the memory of my beloved father. You were good to my family while they were here. I do not forget, and I've no wish to cause you harm. Call me Fred," he said gently, looking at John with sympathy. John was able to muster something of a smile as he looked at Fred, and it emboldened him to make his next request.

"Thankyou Fred. If it is not too impertinent, may I ask you to write us with your sister's progress? My mother and sister had formed an acquaintance with her and were most affected by the passing of Mr and Mrs. Hale. They would be glad to know i – that she is recovering," he caught himself at the end, determined not to set a seal on Margaret's fate before Fred even saw her. Fred was staring at him curiously, not entirely sure Mr. Thornton was telling him the whole truth. He was sceptical that this level of concern was entirely on behalf of his mother and sister.

"Very well, I will provide reports of her progress when I can. It is the least I can do, for the kindness you showed them when they resided here, and the kindness you have shown my associates and I today. May I ask you something in return? What was the nature of _your _connection with my sister?"

John was silent, but the flickering of emotions on his face told Fred all he needed to know.

"Never mind, your face is answer enough. Let me counsel you Mr. Thornton. Margaret can be stubborn when she sets her mind to something, be it a task or her opinion of something. Let me assure you, she never hated you. For all of your conflicts, she had a most high opinion of you. But I would also advise you this. Put her from your mind. Whatever your attachment to her, it is unlikely that anything further shall come to pass. She is far too sick at present to contemplate marriage or leaving London, and it could be years until she is recovered. For the good of both of you. Let her go," Fred watched John for his answer, who could only merely nod before turning to seek out his own quarters.

No-one in the Thornton household slept very well that night.

The Lennoxes were up at first light, yet found Fred already washed and dressed, having sought out his own washing water out of habit from the Navy. They ate a hurried breakfast, and gratefully accepted the cab Mr Thornton summoned for them, but not before attempting to protest his offer to pay for it. Finally, Captain Lennox, who could admit when he had met his match, acquiesced with a smile.

"Mr Thornton, if the Army were comprised of more tenacious northern men such as yourself, what foe could truly stand against it?"

John only found himself wishing he could have met Captain Lennox under more pleasant circumstances. He could see the two of them getting along.

Finally, the time came for them to take leave of their surprise hosts. All three men bowed to Mrs Thornton and Mr. Thornton. Fred thanked Mrs. Thornton for the food and bed and then turned to Mr Thornton on his way out.

"I will honour your request, but please consider the advice I gave you in return. It is the best course for the both of you"

John nodded tightly. Fred made one last bow and was gone. Not 10 minutes after they had departed in the cab, Jane came in announcing the arrival of Fanny Watson, whose shrill voice cut through the tense atmosphere left by their previous guests like a thousand blades.

"Oh Mother, John, you should have attended the dinner party Watson gave last night, it was sublime! I can't imagine that there was anything here that could have held that much interest for you. What did you do, sit around and embroider all evening? Sit and talk shipments and orders with my tedious brother?"

"You'll hold your tongue in this house girl. He may be your brother but he is the master of this house and you'll show him his due respect. And I'll remind you not to be so impertinent. You may be a woman grown and married, but you will still respect me as your mother!" Hannah Thornton snapped, overwrought by the events of the previous day. She and John shared a look, reaching an unspoken agreement not to divulge the events of yesterday to Fanny, who looked from one to the other with an increasing expression of confusion.

"I had mill business to attend to Fanny. Perhaps you might remind your husband to attend to business at his mill once in a while rather than spending all his days pondering speculations," John answered her tersely. Then, having neither the patience nor the energy to deal with his sister, he turned and left the room, seeking out his office and a strong brandy. Or three.

Meanwhile, on a train that was not moving towards London fast enough for Fred's liking, he was pondering how best to help his sister and wondering what on earth he was going to find when he finally got to see her.

"Please God, my sister has suffered enough. Torment her no longer!" he whispered to himself, over and over, until the words blurred together and he drifted into a fitful sleep.

A/N: Sorry, a few more plot twists to get through! I'm also posting this here now as a content warning, but as you can tell from this chapter, this story is going to look heavily at mental health and Victorian attitudes around it. Based on the research I've done already; it isn't going to be pretty, but I won't be going into very graphic detail. Please be assured that this will be a Happily Ever After story, I promise!

Also, by way of apology to ardent Thornton/Margaret readers, the Thorntons are going to be background characters for now. The Frederick/Margaret sibling relationship is not deeply explored in the book or television show for obvious reasons and I really wanted to see how it could be portrayed. I hope you are still interested in reading this work!

Sid x


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So, this is the point of the story where John and the Thorntons fade out. Never fear, they are returning! We also finally see Margaret and how she's getting on. Also, if you feel so inclined to review, could you let me know your thoughts on the pacing of the story? I feel like I should spend longer on some scenes, but then I get too excited to move the story forward and I never know how to extend the scene. Some feedback would be appreciated. The chapters will all be about the same length, as I work best in small bursts.

For this chapter, italic writing shows what Margaret is thinking/doing.

Many thanks – enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 3

The carriage containing the Lennox brothers and Frederick Hale rolled to a stop outside Harley Street, and Fred could not contain his nerves. He had dreamed of this day since he fled England. A day where he would be able to return and be publicly embraced and welcomed by his family, with no fear of arrest or public scandal. He had dreamed of returning to that idyllic parsonage in Helstone. Mother and Margaret would race each other to embrace him. Margaret would win. His mother would cry and rejoice in his return, and his father would clap him on the shoulder and welcome him home a man. He would settle in another house, marry a local girl and raise children in the clean southern air. Margaret may have married some fine London gentleman that their Aunt introduced her to, and she would bring her children to Helstone for holidays. They would all play together, with their parents and grandparents watching on adoringly.

Fred knew it was unusual for a man to dream of such domesticity. But a few years on the run would make even the most hardened man yearn for such simplicity. But dreams, Fred had learned, were very different from reality, and his dreams had been utterly shattered. He returned to a place that he had never called home, still reeling from his mother's death to find his father had followed not far behind her. And then to find out his sister had suffered a breakdown and was possibly mentally unstable. Would she even know his face? Would she be happy to see him? Or would she scream and curse, blaming him for leaving her to suffer alone? He had no time to ponder further, the door was open and the trunks were being unloaded.

The three of them were taken into the parlour by a maid, where Edith and Aunt Shaw were seated, completing embroidery. Edith jumped up when they were announced, and embraced Fred tightly, smiling at her husband over his shoulder.

"It gives me such joy to see you here Fred. Truly, we were beginning to despair that we ever would. At least after these few months of sorrow, we have something to bring us all some cheer," she pulled back to look at Fred, and her eyes were glistening with tears. Aunt Shaw also rose from her chair and embraced Fred, freeing Edith to greet her husband and brother in law.

"It gives us much joy to welcome you home. My blessed sister is smiling down on us today," she proclaimed, taking pause to dab at her eyes with a handkerchief. Fred appreciated the sentiments, but they were not what he had come seeking. He cut right to the heart of the matter.

"Where is Margaret?" At this, Aunt Shaw's expression became a little tense.

"She is upstairs. She was asleep last we checked. Annie, confer with Dixon and see if Margaret is amiable to visitors". The maid curtsied and left the room.

"We have moved her into my suite of rooms," Aunt Shaw explained "Dixon has utilised the dressing room attached to the bedchamber as her own sleeping quarters. She sleeps with the door open and has angled the bed so that she is always watching Margaret's bed. I must warn you Fred, her condition is still quite serious. You should prepare yourself for any reaction. But control your emotions. Any reaction on your part will only distress her further. Be as amiable to her as you can," Aunt Shaw implored him. Annie reported that Margaret was awake, and Dixon felt that she was calm enough to receive her visitors. Captain Lennox, Aunt Shaw and Edith accompanied Fred upstairs. Fred tried to pretend that they were having a happy little family reunion, but he knew that they were there to help restrain Margaret if she lapsed into one of her episodes.

Dixon greeted them at the door to the parlour. She beamed at Fred and silently pulled him in for a brief hug, squeezing him tightly. Fred took it as her giving him strength for what he would face. Then she turned back to face the room.

"Margaret darling. Look who has come back. You remember, we told you that Mr Frederick was to be allowed to come home? He is here for you my sweet"

Fred finally got to set eyes upon his sister and took an effort not to cry out. Margaret had the shrunken, wasted appearance of a person who has lost a great deal of weight in a short space of time. Her eyes now seemed too large for her head and were framed with large shadows so dark they looked like bruises. Her cheeks were starting to hollow, her lips dry and peeling. He also noted that her cheeks and neck bore long red scratches. He realised with a gulp of horror that they were most likely self-inflicted. Her hair, once so vibrant and shiny, trailed limply down her back. Most of it had been braided into a plait, but a few trailing wisps stuck out and hung unkempt around her face. Though it was the middle of the day, she was dressed in a nightdress and dressing gown, the belt tied around her middle drawing painful attention to how thin she had become. She rose from the chair she had been occupying in an almost dream like trance, and stared at Fred, trying to decide if he was an apparition or not. She reached out her hand, and Fred tentatively stretched out his fingers to meet hers. When their hands connected, her face split into the widest smile and she threw her arms around his neck. Fred returned the hug in kind, resting his forehead on her shoulder. They stayed locked in that embrace for what felt like an eternity. The sound of Margaret drawing in a sharp breath made Frederick look up at his sister. She was staring over his shoulder with a vivid expression of alarm. Following her gaze, he saw only Captain Lennox, whose confused expression surely mirrored his own.

"Migsy, what's the matter?" He hoped her old childhood nickname would calm her. Far from it. Margaret began hyperventilating, almost clawing frantically at her face, before sinking to the floor with her hands over her ears and her eyes closed tight.

_She hadn't embraced Fred since that night at Outwood Station. She peeked out from where she had tucked her head into his chest, and to her amazement they were in a place that looked very much like that station. How strange, she was sure she had been in Harley Street but a moment ago. She was drinking in the vivid sight of this place when she remembered herself. She was alone with Fred after dark. She must leave! She must leave, before – _

_And then her eyes fell upon __**him**__. Those steel blue eyes bore into her soul. She could see his glare, cursing her for her indiscretion. A name she could not place, but words as vivid as if she had heard them spoken, swirled around her like a drone of bees. She stumbled back, trying to fight them off. _

"_You run great risks, allow me to say, in being so indiscreet" _

"_If I had any thought or hope, of course that is at an end. I am quite disinterested" _

"_My own interest in you is – simply that of a friend. That is all given up; all passed away. You believe me?" _

"_I thought, perhaps you might have had something to say but I see we are nothing to each other" _

"_I hope you realise that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over" _

_The words kept flying around and they would not stop trying to attack her. In the swirling fog of her mind she could only recall that gentleman's face and those hard, blue eyes. She only knew that it was very bad that he should have discovered them there, though she could not discern why. Different voices began to swirl in her head until her head was overwhelmed. She could not take any more and let out a long wail of despair, willing for all the noise to just go away. A strong pair of arms encircled her and she leaned into the warm embrace eagerly. The voice whispering soothing nothings to her sounded remarkably like Papa, and she clung on tighter. Papa had not left her. _

Frederick had caught Margaret as she sank to the floor and could do nothing but hold her tight and assure her that she was safe. Everyone else looked on in alarm. He stayed crouched on the floor with her until her sobbing subsided and her breathing evened out. Finally, she weakly lifted her head and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"Fred?" she asked, her voice faint with disbelief.

"I am here Migsy. I am here"

She beamed for a moment before her expression sank back into one of horror.

"Oh Fred, it was awful. That awful man saw us at Outwood Station!" here she pointed wildly at Captain Lennox, who had the grace to only look politely puzzled.

"We should never have gone Fred! It was awful. That horrible man saw us. Who is he, why does he say such awful things? He judges me so harshly Fred, why?" Margaret begged, dangerously close to tears again. Everyone else in the room was baffled, but Fred understood. Their embrace had triggered a memory of that evening at Outwood station. She must have imagined Captain Lennox to be Mr. Thornton, which had triggered the memory of being seen and confronted by Leonards. He was baffled as to how she had confused Lennox with Mr. Thornton; the former was as fair as the latter was dark. The only thing they had in common was their height.

"It is okay Migsy. I have met Mr. Thornton. He knows who I am and that you were only accompanying your brother that night. Do not worry yourself sister"

Margaret did not miss the first part of his statement, and all else seemed to pale into irrelevance. She seized the front of his shirt and stared him hard in the eyes. The almost frenzied expression in her eyes frightened him but he forced himself to stare back.

"Mr Thornton? Oh, it _was_ Mr. Thornton that saw us! I never told him Fred, I promise I didn't! Oh, but that I should have said something! He thinks so ill of me and they all gossip so perniciously in the North!"

No use telling her that it was just the same in London. The slightest hint of scandal sent all the masses into a tizzy.

"He was so good to us and to be repaid like that! He must have surely felt taken for a fool!"

Sensing that she was close to hysterics again, Fred gently cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Calm yourself sister. None of those horrible events matter now. Mr. Thornton knows the truth, and his only care now is that you recover yourself. Do not distress yourself on his account, he would hate to hear of it. Can you do that for me?"

Margaret nodded, and held her hands out for Fred to help guide her to her feet. She smiled at him, still with tears in her eyes, and then looked at him curiously.

"But what are you doing here? Surely you would not risk getting caught again?" her eyes darted around the room nervously, as though expecting soldiers to burst out of her closet to seize Fred. She still seemed wary of Captain Lennox. Fred smiled at her reassuringly.

"Captain Reid was arrested for attempting to abscond with the officers' payroll on his former assignment. His behaviour in the mutiny was uncovered so all us officers were pardoned. The ones already hanged are being exhumed for a proper reburial, Navy's orders"

"And you have been allowed home?" Margaret whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

"I am come home sister. I swear to you, I shall stay with you as long as you need me. I will never abandon you again," Fred promised in a thick voice, almost choking with emotion. Margaret's answer was to clasp his hands in her own and press them to her forehead, whispering what sounded almost like a prayer over them, before pressing them to her lips.

Feeling confident that Margaret would be able to remain sensible for the foreseeable future, and after imploring Dixon to summon them if there was an issue, Edith, Aunt Shaw and the Lennoxes rose and dispersed from the room. Margaret was so engrossed in drinking in the sight of her brother that she scarcely noticed. The others left the reunited siblings to their tête-á-tête.

They were later greatly cheered by the fact that Margaret had summoned a servant for plates of toast and bacon, and had consented to sit in the bath and allow Dixon to bathe her and wash her hair, and Edith came to apply some salve to the scratches on her neck and cheeks.

Fred sat alone in his designated room and penned two letters.

Mr Thornton,

Today we arrived at Harley Street and I was reunited with my sister. This illness of the mind has wrought a great physical ordeal on her body. I won't torment you with the details but do seek to cheer you with the fact that a good deal of progress has been made on the first day. Of course, we must not be overconfident that there won't be a lapse of some sort, but I have good reason to hope that Margaret can truly begin the road to recovery.

I discovered early into our reunion that she is still quite distressed about our unfortunate meeting at Outwood Station. Be assured that I have informed her of our meeting and that all misunderstandings have been resolved between us. Forgive the impertinence, but I ventured to volunteer on your behalf that she has been absolved of your low opinion of her. I did what I believed best for my sister's state of mind. This seemed to cheer her greatly, and she has already begun to take proper meals again, although in small portions. She is also allowing Dixon to administer her proper care in her washing routine, which she must needs still carries out under supervision.

I must also beg one more impertinence of you Sir. Before she left, Margaret bequeathed to you our father's copy of Plato. I simply ask that you temporarily return it to Margaret's care. Aunt Shaw has not permitted many of our father's possessions to return to Harley Street, for they never got along well together when he was alive. I think it would cheer Margaret greatly to have a few more reminders of our father around her.

I hope this report finds you well and that parting with Margaret's gift does not cause you much anguish. I would not ask if I did not believe that it would truly improve Margaret's spirits.

Yours in gratitude,

Frederick Hale

Mr Bell,

By now you may have heard of my return to England and of Margaret's poor health. Be assured that my return across the channel went well and that I am safe in Harley Street. I am where I belong Sir, with my sister, who already shows great signs of improvement.

I am writing this short letter to invite you to call on us whenever you wish. More familiar and friendly faces would do dear Margaret the world of good, and I would wish to discuss financial matters with you. We cannot live with Aunt Shaw forever, and I am determined to find the means for independence to care for her myself, without being a burden to anymore relatives.

I await on your reply,

Frederick Hale

Folding the letters into their respective addressed envelopes, Frederick placed them on the desk to be posted the next morning.

Edith Lennox was not used to feeling neglected, and the feeling troubled her deeply. Multiple invitations sent to her friends to take tea were returned with polite declinations. When she went calling, the visits were always cut short with some remembered errand and the calls were never returned. She had never fully considered the implications that caring for Margaret would carry for herself. At the time, she had only thought of her poor cousin. The impact of that decision didn't fully register with her until she decided to step out, determined to obtain some fabrics to commission some new clothes for Shalto, and perhaps some lace to re trim a favourite bonnet of hers.

The drapers served her pleasantly enough, but she soon noticed that she was drawing strange looks from the other patrons. Ladies whispered to each other behind their fans and moved away from which ever part of the shop she was attempting to browse. Having a fair idea of what they whispered about, but having no wish to have her fears confirmed, she hastily paid up her order with the directions for its delivery and departed the shop.

She returned home to find the servants' quarters in a fair state of chaos and her mother bellowing most formidably.

"You have seen what becomes of a servant who takes private family matters and turns them into idle gossip! If you are desirous to keep your positions and not be turned away without a reference, I suggest you guard your tongues and rebuff any questions you are asked about our situation! Am I understood? Now get that sobbing wretch out of my sight!"

It was then that Edith's attention was drawn to the corner, where to her shock she saw Lizzie, one of the ladies' maids, standing with her cloak around her shoulders, bonnet in hand. Her bag that bore signs of being packed at great speed sat at her feet, and the hand that was not clutching her bonnet was clamped over her hand, muffling great racking sobs. At Aunt Shaw's final edict, two kitchen hands took her by the shoulders and gently guided her out of the kitchen towards the servants' entrance.

"Mama, whatever has happened?"

Aunt Shaw's head snapped up, having not noticed her daughter come in. Her mouth set into a tight frown.

"It seems Lizzie has been gossiping with the workers that come to collect our laundry. The news of your cousin's… condition must be halfway around the circles of London by now. Of course, she has been instantly dismissed and the rest of the staff issued with a stiff warning. We shall simply have to hope to ride out the inevitable gossip and that your cousin recovers quickly"

"I am sure that is a certainty now that she is reunited with Frederick. I say let them gossip Mama. They must not have half of your goodness to take in a family member and continue to care for them through a most trying illness. Do not trouble yourself with this Mama, you cannot show Margaret your distress, it would do her no good either"

Mrs Shaw simply patted her daughter's hand with a fond smile and they both departed to the parlour with instructions for a fresh tea tray to follow behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in updating! Thank you for your responses regarding my pacing, you all seem pretty happy with it so I'll pretty much carry on as is. If I think of any scene extensions, I will probably upload them as one shots.

Onwards and upwards!

If Mr Bell had not been a gentleman, he would have vaulted out of the train carriage and sprinted to Harley Street. Sadly, he was, and decorum and public decency demanded that he step off slowly and ask a porter to hail him a cab.

His mind was a whirl, replaying the letter he had received from one Frederick Hale. A boy who by all accounts must be a man now, one he hadn't seen since before his fateful departure for the Navy. To receive a letter openly stating he was now residing back in England had at first seemed a terrible hoax to Adam Bell. He made subtle enquiries through his connections and found Fred to be telling the truth. Which made the following news of Margaret's collapse all the more troubling. He'd abandoned his business in Oxford as quickly as possible, dashed off quick instructions to his solicitor and found the first available train to London. The lateness of the hour also demanded he stop at his London hotel of choice to arrange his accommodation and stay put for the night. He rose at first light and was bound for Harley Street as soon as calling hours were permitted. He knocked and waited to be admitted. The butler opened the door.

"Good afternoon. I'm Mr Bell, here to visit Frederick and Margaret Hale"

"Yes Sir, come in. I will show you to the parlour"

As he walked through the hallway, Mr Bell was unnerved by the unmistakeable sound of a woman sobbing and a low murmur of voices. Upon arriving in the parlour, he declined an invitation to sit, and took to pacing anxiously until someone came to him.

After about five minutes, the parlour door opened… and Richard Hale walked through the door. Mr Bell stared and blinked. The image of his old college mate, in the most vibrant days of his youth was replaced, with a man who bore a great likeness to him, but traces of other personages could be found in his face. This man also looked worn down and tired, as if he shouldered a great burden.

"Frederick," Mr Bell almost whispered, "How long has it been, old boy?"

Frederick's countenance brightened considerably as he looked at his father's old friend.

"Mr Bell, thank-you so much for coming," Frederick murmured, striding across the room to firmly grasp his hand.

"Of course, my boy of course. Anything for the children of my dear friend, God rest his soul. How is your sister?"

Frederick looked rather forlorn as the conversation steered towards the inevitable.

"Not so well at the moment I'm afraid. She was resting after breakfast and had another of her nightmares. I had soothed her to a coherent level before you arrived, but she is still in some distress"

Both men exchanged grave looks, equally concerned that Margaret's suffering was still so severe. However, Mr Bell, as congenial as ever, was determined to lift Frederick's spirits one way or another.

"Well, we shall leave her to the care of her excellent aunt and cousin and discuss other matters. While I cannot wave a magic wand and make your sister well, I can ease your burdens in other ways"

Frederick turned a curious gaze upon his wily godfather.

"Whatever do you mean Mr. Bell?"

A short half an hour later, Frederick Hale was struggling to pick his jaw up off the floor. Mr Bell's proposal had surpassed his wildest expectations.

"Mr Bell, I only proposed that you might help me find some means of employment. This is madness! We cannot accept all of this!"

Mr Bell fixed him with a grim smile.

"You can accept it Frederick, and you must. I am signing all my property and fortunes over to Margaret. I had planned to do this from the moment that I was alerted to the death of your poor father. I had not learned of the change in your circumstances at the time, so you will forgive me for not making any provision for you in my will"

Frederick shrugged this oversight off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and bid his godfather continue.

"However, given that you are now present, and Margaret's poor health, I now move to appoint you to hold it in trust for your sister, and act on her behalf. I am confident Margaret would not want it any other way. I will make a generous bequest to your Aunt to thank her for Margaret's care, so please do not feel pressured to give her any more money"

"But why? Why sign your life's work away – you still have so much of it to enjoy!"

The fact that Mr Bell did not immediately answer him ignited a small spark of panic.

"Mr Bell! The truth – tell me all of it!"

"I was delayed in my departure from Oxford, as I had to meet with my doctor…"

What felt like a lifetime later, but was in actual fact 10 minutes, Frederick was slumped in his chair with his head in his hands. His hair was sticking up at wild angles from the amount of times he had run his hands through it in agitation. Another blow for his poor sister. Another loss to process. What would he tell her? What would this do to her?

"What am I going to tell her?" he mumbled to himself.

"The truth. We will tell her that I have set my affairs in order and am moving to a warmer climate to live out the remainder of my days. We will tell her that she need not mourn me or worry about her position. We will assure her that she is loved and cared for by her family, both on earth and in heaven. I promise you Fred, she is gaining far more from this than she is losing"

Fred sighed and sat up straighter in his seat. Mr Bell had such a way of explaining things. Their meeting was interrupted by a knock at the door. Simpson entered as he was bidden.

"A package has arrived for you Mr Hale"

"Thank you, Simpson. Could you enquire as to the condition of my sister?"

"Yes Sir"

Simpson gave a small nod of his head and departed the room. Fred stared at the small package in his hand. It was postmarked as coming from Milton. He pulled it open to find the requested book and a letter addressed to him. Placing the book on the arm of his seat, he opened the letter.

_Fred, _

_I am grateful to you for helping to clear up our misunderstandings about that meeting at Outwood Station. I hope you will forgive me, but I behaved atrociously towards your sister with regards to that evening. I cannot now think of it without regret, and the thought that it still played so heavily on her mind torments me greatly. I take no offence to the overtures you made on my behalf, as they are close enough to the truth, perhaps even understated. _

_Forgive me for speaking so frankly. It is a habit of us northerners, and failure to properly express what I was thinking led to many failures in my acquaintance with Margaret. I have resolved to always speak my mind and leave no want of understanding. _

_I enclose the book you requested, with no ill will towards you for the request. If I can play any part in your sister's recovery, I will do so gladly. _

_Yours, _

_John Thornton. _

Fred set the letter down with the book, grateful for Mr Thornton's help. He paused, then sat bolt upright in his seat as a thought occurred to him.

"Thornton! You own Malborough Mills, or rather we – Margaret owns it now. What are we to do about Mr Thornton? I don't know the first thing about owning a mill or making cotton – what use could we be to him as landlords?"

Mr Bell waved away Fred's concerns with a chuckle.

"All taken care of. I'm meeting Thornton myself in a few days to explain the new situation. He's quite capable of running the mill and all the business aspects himself. Margaret – and yourself – technically speaking, would be landlords in name only"

At this, Simpson re-entered the room.

"Dixon reports that Miss Hale is calm and is asking for you, Mr Hale"

"Thank you, Simpson. Come Mr Bell. You may be able to bring some cheer to our dear Migsy" Fred rose from his seat and tucked the book under his arm.

Mr Bell followed behind Fred with no small sense of trepidation. Fred had filled him in on what to expect from her physical condition, but they were both nervous about what mood she may be in. When they reached the door of her sitting room, Fred motioned to Mr Bell to remain where he was, and stepped through the door. Margaret had been gazing out of the window and turned rapidly at the sound of the door. Her expression became rather cross.

"There you are Fred! You said you were only stepping out for a moment – it was very distressing when you did not return!"

His poor sister. So many people had left her, now the smallest feeling of abandonment would send her into a panic. He schooled his expression back to his usual cheerful demeanour and smiled easily at her.

"Forgive me sister, a visitor came for us and wished to discuss some business first. How would you feel about seeing our old friend Mr Bell?"

Margaret's cross expression changed so rapidly to a brilliant smile that it was disconcerting to behold.

"Mr Bell is here? Bring him in Fred, bring him in!" Margaret giddily exclaimed, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was still only clad in a nightdress and robe.

Mr Bell walked through the door and, to Fred's enormous relief, did not even bat an eyelid at his goddaughter's attire.

"I am ever your obedient servant my dear and will obey every beck and call!" he proclaimed, sweeping her a theatrical bow. Margaret giggled with delight and rushed to embrace him.

"It is so good to see you here Mr Bell! What news have you for us?"

"No news my dear, I only came with the intent of seeing you both. Fred's letter explaining his return to England seemed so incredible that I had to come and see it for myself! And of course, as your dear godfather, I had to see that you were well and being looked after," Mr Bell explained, smiling affably at her. To their astonishment, Margaret's expression instantly soured. Fred and Dixon exchanged a worried look.

"I am sure he told you all about it. They say I have lost my mind; they say I am suffering from hysteria!"

She began pacing, and the rest of the room's occupants held their breath. No one knew what to say in response.

"I am not mad! I am in grief! I have lost both my parents and one of the closest friends I ever had, did everyone really expect me to carry on skipping into the sunset with a smile on my face?"

"Margaret, grief is natural, but- "

"But nothing Mr Bell! I know the gossip that circulates about me in Milton, what they all think of my character after being seen on the platform with Fred! So quick to think the worst of me, and _no-one _gave me the chance to defend myself, had a thought that there was an innocent and plausible explanation. _No-one_!" The emphasis she was placing on 'no-one' left Fred and Mr Bell in no doubt as to the particular person she was ostensibly referring to.

"To lose all that I have lost, and to be rewarded by becoming an object of gossip for all, like some plaything or spectacle at a zoo!". Tears were starting to form in her eyes, and Fred motioned for Dixon to leave and summon Aunt Shaw.

"I heard Aunt Shaw and Edith discussing it the other day. A maid was dismissed for discussing my illness with laundry servants. Have I truly slipped so low in society that a _maid_ considers me nothing better than a gossip topic?"

"You are right to be upset my dear – "

"I am not upset! I am…. angry! Yes, I am angry. Oh my goodness, I am angry! I do not consider myself a sinner, I have always attended church and said my prayers every night. I was obedient to my parents and cared for the poor. I looked after all around me and went where I was bidden and did as I was bidden. I am angry! I did my best to be an obedient Christian, and this is how I am rewarded? Everyone I loved best is gone, and I am confined to the house, considered a lunatic, and a mere servant thinks herself above my reproach? Does that sound like an apt reward for a life well lived in good Christian obedience?" Margaret demanded of her captive yet terrified audience. Mercifully, they were spared the turmoil of scrambling for an appropriate response by the return of Dixon, Aunt Shaw hurrying in behind her.

"My dear, this is quite the state you've worked yourself into. Dixon, please go and prepare Margaret a fresh pot of tea. It will do her poor nerves the world of good," Aunt Shaw instantly undertook to diffuse the situation, speaking to her niece in soothing tones. Her presence only soothed a fraction of Margaret's ire.

"Aunt Shaw, the maid you dismissed! Where is she?" Mrs Shaw only stared at her niece in utter bewilderment, shocked that she had learned of the incident. She instantly shot an accusing look at her nephew, who threw his hands up in consternation. Mrs Shaw collected herself with remarkable speed and addressed her niece in a deceptively off-hand tone.

"Lizzie? Oh, pay her no mind child. She will have likely returned to whatever insignificant village she hailed from, laid so low as to be beneath our notice. She has caused you enough distress already my dear, do not let the likes of her vex you further"

Truly, if Delilah Shaw had had the fortune to be born a man, she could have forged a remarkable career in political negotiations. Margaret, who had two minutes ago been close to hysterics and a sure meltdown, was already beginning to return to her usual docility, allowing Dixon to guide her back to her armchair.

Mr Bell could only watch on in horrified silence. He was remarkably glad of his decision to appoint Fred as trustee for his sister's inheritance but also dreading having to tell Margaret of why she was to become so handsomely settled.

Edith, having seen Sholto settled for his afternoon rest and having the time to spare, made her way to Margaret's rooms. She started in amazement at the presence of Mr Bell, having not heard him come in nor registered Fred's departure over the task of settling Margaret from one of her terrors. Seeing that the scene was settled, she invited everyone to take seats and decided to find out what he was doing here.

"So Mr Bell, what does bring you to London? I am surprised you could be tempted away from your beloved Oxford," Edith asked.

"My dear godson wrote me when he was settled here, begging me to come and see him. He thought I could help restore some cheer to our dear Margaret. I can only apologise that this so far has not been the case," he glanced apologetically at Margaret, who instantly looked mollified.

"The apology must be mine to make Mr Bell. It was unseemly of me to unleash all of my anger. It has been building in me for so long, I did not know any other way to unleash it all"

Mr Bell rushed to soothe her agitation.

"You have a great deal to be angry about my girl! You said it yourself, to be dealt such cruel hands after a life in perfect Christian obedience must be so galling to contemplate. Promise me that you will not live your whole life with this anger dear Margaret!"

Margaret looked thoughtfully out of the window while she framed her answer.

"You know, after all of my outbursts today, I do not feel as angry as I did. I was so frustrated for so long. It is so vexing to be unwell, and not be able to see a way out"

She looked around the room as she continued.

"Then I feel so guilty for the trials my illness has put you all through" A chorus of voices rose to dismiss her misgivings, but she held up her hand for silence.

"I know the society we live in, the gossip you have exposed yourselves to for continuing to care for me here in Harley Street, and I am more grateful for that than you could know," here she turned to her Aunt Shaw, and found that lady's tearful expression mirrored her own.

"Aunt, ever since I was a child and especially in the last few months, you have done more for me than anyone had a right to ask or expect of you. How can I begin to repay this kindness?"

Her Aunt, too overcome with emotion, simply reached out and squeezed her hand. Edith, far less restrained in her affections, rose out of her seat and flung her arms around Margaret, who returned the embrace fiercely.

Soon enough, everyone returned to their seats, and conversation resumed after many cleared throats and dabbed eyes. Margaret also found the time to affectionately squeeze her dear Dixon's hands and whisper some words of thanks.

"It would be an insult to your blessed mother not to have stayed by your side Miss. I did my duty and was glad to do so, and I'll hear no more of it," she responded gruffly, also threatening to be overwhelmed with emotion. She bustled out of the room to see to luncheon preparations and to ensure a place was set for Mr. Bell.

That invaluable Mr Bell. His immeasurable talent to put all around him at ease after a difficult conversation was invaluable to his present company, and it came into its own there and then.

"As I was saying, I came here to see my dear godchildren. I also had some business to discuss, which I have already settled with Fred, and will now put to you, my dear Margaret" he turned to clasp her hands in both of his.

"Business? What role could I possibly play in any of your business Mr Bell?"

"You can play the most important role I can think of my dear. I am naming you my heir"

"Your heir? But you are not… Mr Bell, tell me you are not…" she started to become agitated. Mr Bell squeezed her hands consolingly, and Fred rushed to his sister's side, seating himself upon the arm of the chair and placing his hands supportively on her shoulders.

"I have been blessed Margaret, to meet such an end as this. Not many men get the luxury of being able to plan their demise. I have time enough to set all my affairs in order, and then I am sailing for Argentina to see out my end days. I have always been attached to that place; it will be a most agreeable climate in which to go to God. Oh Margaret, please do not weep for me," he pleaded, as tears began to form in her eyes.

"What am I – what are we to do without you?" she whispered, bowing her head over his hands and squeezing them with all of her might, as if she could will him to live by her strength alone.

"Margaret, look at me," she lifted her head obligingly "You are both going to be fine. I am signing all of my wealth over to you. Fred will act as trustee for you, given your health. Trust me Margaret, I am doing more for you with my death than I could do for you in life. This money will be yours to do with entirely as you see fit. This will guarantee that you can be cared for in comfort for as long as you need. Please do not mourn for me Margaret, I will always be with you my girl. Do not think of what you are losing, instead think of what you are gaining. Can you do that for me?"

Margaret nodded weakly "When do you set sail?"

"In a month's time"

"You will stay with us until then?"

"Of course my dear. In fact I had thought, with your Aunt's gracious permission, that the three of us may take a sojourn to Helstone. I would only take you for a few days, a friend of mine is more than willing to accommodate us. What say you my dears?" he entreated cheerfully.

"Mr Bell," Aunt Shaw began, "Margaret may yet still be too delicate for such a trip"

"I understand your concern Aunt, truly I do, but a return to Helstone – however brief – may be just the thing I need. Would Dixon be able to accompany us as well, to assure you that I am always in capable female care?"

Aunt Shaw smiled. Ever the diplomat, dear Margaret. She nodded her consent.

"I shall ask her at lunch. I am confident she shall agree. She would so love a trip to Helstone and I can think of no better reward for her faithful service"

Margaret could also have taken up as a psychic if she so chose. Her proposal to Dixon was at first met with such enraptures that the poor servant was in danger of swooning. But Annie Dixon was not the swooning sort, so she collected herself remarkably, and accepted the assignment in more muted tones as befitting her station. Fred could have sworn he saw the maid skip out of the room to fetch Margaret more bread for her soup. Over lunch his sister was so enthralled in discussions of their trip that she did not notice Dixon pouring more soup into her bowl, with Aunt Shaw's encouragement, when she was not looking directly at her food. It took her by surprise that she felt full for the first time in memory.

They all repaired back to her sitting room after lunch, where Margaret finally noticed the book Fred had brought in with him all those hours ago.

"Fred, is that not Father's copy of Plato? I felt sure that I gave it to…"

"Mr Thornton. He gave it to me, before I left Milton," he lied smoothly, knowing Margaret would admonish him for asking for a gift to be returned, "He was distressed to hear that you were ill, and wanted you to keep it, to keep the memory of your father close. He knew that so many of their other possessions had to be auctioned off" There was love behind this deceit, Fred knew it was wrong, but he also felt he owed it to Mr Thornton to bolster Margaret's good opinion of him where possible.

Margaret turned the book over in her hands, pondering this new information. She allowed the ghost of a smile to flick over her face. Perhaps Mr Thornton would not be so cross to have to deal with the Hales as his landlords. She hugged the book close to her chest, breathing in the scant scent of her father that still clung to the leather. It was also interspersed with that familiar scent of smoke. She found she did not mind it so much.

And so the Hale siblings passed away the rest of the afternoon in a most agreeable manner, Margaret dozing in her favourite armchair while Frederick read aloud from their father's book. They could almost pretend they were children again, listening to their father read while their mother embroidered. Finally, Margaret was beginning to find her peace.

A/N – I thought I would reward you with a longer chapter for your wait. I'm also going away for a few days soon, so this may have to tide you over until I'm back. Please review!

Also, correct me if I'm wrong regarding source material – but I couldn't remember if Aunt Shaw and Dixon were given first names in the book – so I gave them ones of my own choosing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter! I really enjoyed writing it. I felt that despite her breakdowns, Margaret would still have enough of her mind to know what was causing all these overwhelming emotions. She would have felt to some degree that her position as a woman in the society she lived in would have been very unjust, as she was less able to defend herself against gossip and other things. Anyhow – I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Please review!

_Mr Thornton,_

_I hope that this letter finds you in good cheer. I must thank you sincerely for returning our Father's book. Being able to sit and read the book to Margaret while she sews or knits brings back precious childhood memories, of father reading to us or giving us a lesson while Margaret helped mother with her embroidery. It calms her a good deal. _

_I grow more confident that Margaret will recover from her illness. The most serious problem we have is that she cannot bear solitude. She panics if she is left alone in a room for more than a minute and cannot bear to have me out of her sight. She's taken to conducting conversations with me through the door of the privy room! Mr Bell currently visits every day and she watches him like a hawk, convinced he will vanish if she relents for even a moment. Dear Dixon is kept up well into the early hours as Margaret tries her best to avoid sleep and engages her in all manner of conversations. I will have to find the means to increase her pay if this does not desist, she bears it so admirably. _

_Margaret also has a long way to go to recover physically. Almost 6 months of a vastly reduced diet has weakened her greatly, and she often suffers from dizziness or fainting spells. It has also weakened her usually impermeable constitution a good deal, and she is currently laid up with a cold that she cannot throw off. We beg her to take to her bed, but I think you know Margaret well enough to know how she responds when she doesn't want to do something! I, however, bear these small rebellions with optimism. If she is well enough to argue with me, then all is not lost, and we can all agree I am hardly one to lecture others on the importance of obedience!_

_Should you and your family ever find yourselves in London, you are welcome to call upon us at any time convenient. _

_God Bless you Sir, _

_Fred Hale. _

That letter was still tucked into John's coat pocket when he departed for London a few weeks later. Mr Bell had written to ask for a meeting, imploring him to come before he was off on some holiday or other. Mr Thornton agreed, though the purpose of the meeting he could not fathom. He had brought his mother and sister along. Fanny had recently announced that she was expecting, and John knew he would not hear the end of her complaining if he denied her the opportunity to visit London before she was too large to travel at all. His mother, who usually harboured an aversion to large cities, agreed to come to care for Fanny, and because her son begged not to be left alone with his sister. She often marvelled that she could not have produced two more opposite creatures if she tried. They passed their journey in as agreeable a manner as could be managed, given that Fanny only wanted to drone on about baby names, baby clothes, baby toys, nurseries, furniture, christening arrangements and all the things John could not bear another minute of. Given that it would be indecorous to shout at an expecting woman, he resigned himself to staring out of the window and nodding blankly every few minutes.

Meanwhile, in London, the Hale siblings were passing their morning in a far more cordial manner. Margaret's cold was finally starting to abate, bar a rattling cough. As a treat, and in preparation for her journey to Helstone, Aunt Shaw had arranged for a special seamstress to visit them at their home and measure Margaret for some new clothes. Her and Edith were currently poring over her book of fabric samples, giggling like schoolgirls. Fred was absorbed in a letter from his Dolores, who assured him that she was bearing their separation with good cheer and only wished for her sister's recovery, also bidding him to pass along her gift. He opened the small package she enclosed and smiled cheerfully.

"Migsy!" he called gently. Margaret turned and looked enquiringly at him. It was no small matter to distract a woman from the task of choosing fabric for dresses!

"Dolores has sent you a most pretty sample of Spanish lace – would you like it for adorning one of your fine new dresses?"

Margaret immediately came to his side, and he proffered the sample for her inspection. Her eyes lit up at such a gift as she gently turned it over in her hands. However, her countenance soon became rather forlorn.

"Migs, whatever is the matter?"

"It is such a kind gift and so generous. It seems poor that I have thanked her by being the reason for her continued separation from her husband," she mumbled, staring sadly at the floor.

"Oh no Migsy, do not think like that. Dolores and I were prepared for a long separation when I departed. I was not thinking of sending for her until I could set up in a home of my own. It will be a mammoth task to set up a home worthy of a wife such as her. She and I are utterly united in our wish that you first make a complete recovery." The adoration for his wife and sister was plain on his face, and it cheered Margaret.

"She is fortunate to have a husband such as you, dear brother"

"Oh no my dear, I am the fortunate one. She made those years in exile all the more bearable. I would be lost without her love, just as I was lost without you. I must admit, I had been entertaining the notion that the three of us could all move into a house together"

"That would be lovely Fred, but I fear I would only be terribly underfoot. I would not wish to intrude on a married couple's happiness," Fred waved off her misgivings.

"Nonsense Migs. Those years away from you and our parents were torture, believe me when I say I am never letting you out of my sight again," he teased her "Dolores has also never had a sister, I know she would be delighted to share that bond with a sister such as you"

Margaret blushed, and then fixed her brother with a sharp glance as a thought occurred to her.

"I understand your meaning, _dear brother_," she mock glared at him, "You mean to invite the spinster Aunt to live with you, so that when Dolores gives you children, you never need go to the expense of a nanny's wage!"

Fred clasped his hands over his chest as though his sister had stabbed him and gave her his most innocent gaze.

"My sister wounds me! How could she accuse me of such paltriness?" he cried to the heavens.

These theatrics caused Margaret and Edith to collapse into helpless giggles, until Margaret broke off in a fit of coughing, sending Edith scrambling for another treatment of hot vapours.

The next day, over in his solicitor's office, Mr Bell shuffled his papers and waited for the arrival of Mr Thornton. Presently, that gentleman arrived, shown into the room by one of the junior clerks.

"Apologies for the delay Sir, I was ensuring my mother and sister were well settled at the hotel"

"No need to apologise Sir, we are just waiting for one more addition to our party"

After a few minutes, the door clicked open again, and the junior clerk showed Fred into the room.

"Fred, so glad you found the place! Mr Thornton, I understand you have already made your acquaintance with my godson, Frederick Hale?"

"I have indeed had the pleasure. Good to see you Fred" John replied earnestly, extending his hand to Fred, who grasped it firmly.

"And you John. How are your family?"

"They are well. My sister is expecting, although from her complaining, you would think she was the first woman ever to be so," he replied with a hard roll of his eyes. "How is Margaret?" He added. Fred smiled in reply.

"You can see for yourself later, if you wish. I am bidden by our Aunt to invite you for lunch after this meeting. Meaning no rudeness, but I am told the invitation is only to be extended to you. Aunt does not wish to overwhelm Margaret with an influx of Thorntons just yet" Fred explained apologetically.

"No offense taken. Fanny would probably chew everyone's ear off about the trials of childbearing and Mother is ill at ease in London society. They can call on Margaret separately if she wishes it," Thornton replied. Mr Bell and Fred both smiled at this ever-accommodating gentleman.

"Excellent gentlemen, excellent. Shall we settle to this tedious business?"

All the gentlemen took their seats, and Mr Bell turned to face Mr Thornton.

"The main reason I called you here Thornton, was to inform you of a change in Landlord, and allow you to look over the new paperwork" Mr Thornton gazed at the older gentleman quizzically.

"I'll not bore you with the gruesome details. My doctor informed me that I am suffering from a wasting illness. I am using my remaining time to set my affairs in order before sailing to meet a peaceful demise in Argentina"

Mr Thornton could only stare agape at this pronouncement.

"I am… sorry to hear of your… condition Sir," he replied, not sure which words were appropriate to express what he was feeling. Mr Bell waved off his sympathies.

"Do not distress yourself. It is a rare luxury that a man be able to prepare so diligently for his death. I am blessed indeed. That brings me to the point of said affairs, which is why I have invited dear Fred"

Fred glanced at him sheepishly. John grew ever more puzzled.

"Upon the death of my friend Hale, I knew it was only correct to make Margaret the sole heiress of my fortunes. I have of course never married or sired progeny of my own and I promised Hale that his cherished daughter would want for nothing. Now, Fred and I can vouch that she has improved incredibly over the last few weeks, but no court of law will readily pronounce her of sound mind just yet. Once the label of insanity has been applied, it is incredibly hard to shake off, if it is possible at all," Mr Bell began, grimacing at the hurdles his goddaughter would likely be jumping for the rest of her life.

"Thankfully, the Lord taketh away, but he also, in his mercy, giveth. Fred's fortuitous redemption and return to England means I am able to appoint him as the trustee for Margaret's inheritance, rather than making her forfeit it altogether, or risk placing her at the mercy of some underhanded solicitor who would abuse his power"

"As you are aware Mr. Thornton, my properties include your beloved Malborough Mills and that grand house of yours. The deeds would be transferred to Fred and Margaret names, but I can assure you that they are landlords in name only. Fred is, by his admission, not likely to bother you much"

Fred smiled sheepishly "My knowledge of cotton and manufacturing is woefully low. I would be more hindrance than help"

"So it is agreed. Mr Thornton can continue his marvellous work and hope one day to educate us fluff-headed southerners on the importance of the cotton trade!" Mr Bell intoned joyfully. The smile however, slid off his face when he caught sight of Mr Thornton's face.

"Your faith in my 'marvellous work' may be slightly misplaced gentlemen. I must confess that I am bidden to another meeting while I am in London. I must meet with the bank"

"Do tell, Mr Thornton"

"Malborough Mills has struggled to recover in the wake of the strikes. A cooler summer has meant that cotton has not been in high demand, so buyers have been unable to pay their bills. Others are withholding payment due to incomplete or late orders as a result of the strike. The bank is also unwilling to extend repayment of the debts I already have, so I must find another investor or I shall be forced to close the mill"

"That is grave news indeed Mr. Thornton. I understand that your brother in law, Watson, had some sort of investment scheme? Some speculation or other?"

"I could not do it Mr Bell. Speculation has been the undoing of my family once. I could not risk making the same mistakes as my father. I could not bring myself to do it. I did not invest in the speculation"

He looked up and was incredibly confused to find Mr Bell simply smiling back at him. A glance to his right told him that Fred was just as confused as he was.

"Fortunately for you Mr Thornton, I did. Now Frederick, would you be terribly cross if my final act as landlord of Malborough Mills would be to make a loan to Mr. Thornton, in order to keep his mill running? It would not be good for you or Margaret if your first act as landlord was to be to look for new tenants!"

Fred was smiling jovially "I would not dare risk my sister's ire by refusing. She would be most distressed for her friends who rely on the mill for their livelihoods. Will there still be sufficient funds for her care?"

"I would pay back every penny I owe, Fred"

"There will still be plenty of funds for you and your sister, not to mention the incomes from rent on my other properties. Investing this money in Mr. Thornton would also guarantee you a better rate of repayment than allowing it to fester in a bank"

"Then I am in complete agreement with you, Mr. Bell. Do what you will"

"I will accept on one more condition, as well as being allowed to repay the loan in full"

"Oh? Do humour us Sir"

"That Fred or Margaret, or both of them, visit the mill at least once a year. They are the landlords; they should keep themselves appraised of its progress"

Mr Bell and Fred stared at each other curiously. Such an enigma, this gentleman.

"It's a rare man that makes conditions for his _acceptance _of a loan. Very well Mr. Thornton, if that condition is so very important, then I promise that a Hale shall always travel to Milton at least once a year to poke around your beloved mill, for all the years to come!"

Business with Mr Bell concluded, Mr Thornton and Fred both having signed the new paperwork, those two gentlemen continued on to attend Mr Thornton's meeting with the bank. The details of the new loan were hashed out to the clerks, who accepted Mr Thornton's unexpected windfall with very few questions.

For the first time in months, John Thornton allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope. Just a few weeks ago, he had been facing financial ruin and the loss of his life's work. He had also been desperately worried about Margaret, wondering if she was finally starting to find her way out of the dark cloud that had consumed her mind. Here he was now, the capital to maintain his business secure, and on his way to an afternoon with Margaret, who had improved by all accounts. He could not have wished for a better outcome if he had written it himself.

Fred, however, knew something was wrong the moment they set foot in the door. Aunt Shaw and Edith had said they would all be awaiting their return in the small parlour. Yet, the entire lower floor was vacant save for the servants. He and Mr Bell were beginning to exchange worried glances when Dixon came puffing down the stairs.

"_There _you are Fred. Mr Bell, Mr Thornton, I am bidden to show you to the parlour where you'll have to wait, I am afraid. Miss Hale has _urgent _need of her brother's presence in her rooms"

Fred hurled himself up the stairs to deal with whatever emergency had arisen in his absence, leaving a bewildered Bell and Thornton to be shepherded into the parlour by Dixon. Thornton's heart sank, fearing the worst. However, with Dixon remaining tight lipped about whatever was occurring upstairs, there was little he and Mr. Bell could do except wait.

Fred burst through the doors to Margaret's sitting room with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, where he found her hyperventilating on the floor, with Aunt Shaw holding her in a tight embrace and Edith fanning her gently while whispering comforting words.

"Migsy! Whatever is the matter pet?" Fred exclaimed, pausing to catch his breath. What happened next was a complete shock to everyone.

Margaret's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. She was on her feet in a whirl of muslin and ribbon, knocking her Aunt and cousin over with a loud thud. This she was oblivious to as she strode across the room, and right there and then, struck her brother across the face.

"Where WERE you?!" she screeched, loud enough for perhaps all of Harley Street to hear. Fred, paralysed with shock, could only clutch his cheek and stare at her agape.

Edith had pulled herself to her feet and was determined to take the situation in hand.

"I am so sorry Fred, one of the messenger boys came back to the house clamouring about some carriage accident that had occurred. We were all worried, and then you failed to return to the house at the agreed upon time…" she gestured rather helplessly at Margaret, who was still glowering at Fred, who realised his error with a sinking heart. Margaret had only expected him to be gone for the meeting with Mr. Bell. Diverting to the bank with Mr. Thornton had added a whole hour to his outing and he had not sent word ahead. Throwing in the boy making some noise about a carriage accident had predictably sent Margaret over the edge with worry.

"I am so sorry Migs. Mr Bell required our attention on another matter. I should have sent word ahead when I knew I would be delayed. Please do not distress yourself pet"

"Distress myself?! How can I do little else, when my brother seems to care so little that he cannot send word that he will be delayed and leaves us here to assume the worst? Do you know what it feels like to wonder if you will ever see someone again every single time they leave the house? To be so afraid to let anyone out of your sight – convinced they will disappear in a puff of smoke? The image already torments my dreams Fred, do not let it become my reality," she begged, sinking to the floor as she was overcome with gasping sobs.

His poor sister. For all her outward improvement, she was still waging war on the inner forces that tormented her sleep and employed all tactics to creep into her waking moments.

He merely dropped to the floor beneath her and drew her into his chest, one hand across her shoulders and the other clutched in her hair. He murmured softly, rocking her until her sobs mellowed down into slow, deep breaths.

Unknown to them, Mr Bell and Mr Thornton received a tip off from Simpson that it was safe to proceed upstairs. Mr Bell waved the other gentleman in front of him, and so it was that Mr. Thornton appeared in the doorway, as Frederick lifted Margaret off the floor, and she pulled him in for a gentle embrace, murmuring apologies for the faint handprint now emblazoned across his cheek. Her eyes locked with Mr. Thornton over her brother's shoulder.

Of all the reactions they had anticipated, screaming wasn't one of them.

A/N: Please no hate. I'm off on holiday for a few days, so I will hopefully be able to start on the next chapter when I'm back. I also recently saw the new Emma adaptation. What were everyone's thoughts?


	6. Chapter 6

So sorry for the long absence. I went travelling for a week followed by a hectic time at work. I have the enormous fortune to be working in a supermarket. (Brownie points for detecting the sarcasm).

I'm also working on a slightly more cheerful story that I might debut as a one shot to see how people take to it. CWBWA is some gritty stuff for concentrate on for too long, and some more cheerful stuff would do wonders for my sanity in these troubled times.

I know I said the Thorntons were going to be background characters, but I was brainstorming plot lines and the most logical ones necessitated an early return for our favourite grumpy northern mill man!

Chapter 6

John's heart made an odd sort of motion when he finally saw Margaret again. It leapt for the sight of her, and then twisted again when he spotted her, yet again, in the embrace of another man. _Her brother_, he chided himself gently. And then it leapt right into his throat at the sound of her terrified screams. He was promptly bundled back out the door, into the hall, where he was left to pace while Margaret's family took to soothe whatever terror had overcome her. John was suspicious to say the least. Fred's account of undertaking to improve Margaret's opinion of him did not tally at all with this woman who seemed terrified of the sight of him.

Inside the room, Margaret's thoughts were in complete disarray. She had thought herself prepared to meet with Mr. Thornton. However, the minute she had locked eyes with that piercing blue gaze, it had transported her straight back into one of her most recurring nightmares.

_She was back on the platform of Outwood Station, safe in Fred's reassuring embrace. All of a sudden, a tall dark figure swept onto the platform. She saw the figure come for them and held even tighter to her brother. However, when she looked up into her brother's eyes, their soft brown had inexplicably turned to a cold, steel blue. He opened his mouth, and a different voice came out. Deep, cold and hard. _

"_You run great risks, allow me to say, in being so indiscreet" _

_She desperately willed herself to speak, to argue with the voice, but some force held her mouth sealed shut. _

"_I thought, perhaps you might have had something to say but I see we are nothing to each other" _

_No, not nothing! Please, give me a chance to explain-_

"_I hope you realise that any foolish passion for you on my part is entirely over" _

_Do not let it be over! He didn't understand, I must make him understand!_

_Then, the dark figure swept over Fred and both disappeared, leaving Margaret standing alone. _

"Sssshhh, Margaret, it is okay. You are here in Harley Street. Here, it is me, Cousin Edith. Calm yourself, sweet cousin"

Gentle murmurings and soft warm hands pried Margaret's fingers from her cheeks, where she had been clawing agitatedly at her face again. She opened her eyes and looked up at her cousin, who smiled at her encouragingly.

"There? You see, here I am, and here is Aunt Shaw. You are safe now dear Migsy"

Margaret smiled wanly at her Aunt and then looked around in confusion.

"Where is Fred?"

Mr Thornton was pacing agitatedly in the hallway when the door gently clicked open and Fred extricated himself from the room through the smallest possible gap. John set upon him almost immediately.

"How is Miss Hale? Is she calm now?"

Fred attempted a reassuring smile, but he was so exhausted and worried that he couldn't make it reach his eyes.

"She is well, Edith managed to calm her. I apologise Mr Thornton, none of us anticipated that sort of reaction from her"

John glowered suspiciously at Fred.

"Bizarre that she should have so extreme a reaction to someone you say you have reassured her about. She screamed like I was about to rush at her with a knife"

Fred's eyes narrowed at the barely veiled accusation.

"Remember, _Sir_, that my sister's illness is unique. None of us have ever encountered anything like this. Her behaviour is so altered and varying from one day to the next – we cannot anticipate any fixed pattern of behaviour"

John lowered his eyes to the floor, giving the appearance of sorrow, but in his mind things simply did not add up. Why was Margaret so afraid of him? What had they told her about him?

Just then, Dixon stuck her head out of the door.

"Miss Hale would like to speak to you both"

Fred waved John into the room ahead of him. At least if Margaret was still angry and armed with some manner of projectile, he would not be the main victim.

To his relief and slight disappointment, Margaret was sat serenely in an armchair waiting for them. John winced at the sight of her. The large shawl draped about her shoulders was fooling nobody as to how tightly she was laced into her clothes or how drastically they had had to be taken in. She showed no real evidence of her recent outburst besides a downcast look and a reluctance or inability to look John in the eye. She turned her head to smile wanly at her brother and then gestured for the gentlemen to take seats opposite her.

"Mr Thornton, please do not be fooled by the nature of your welcome, please know that I am pleased to see you, and to see you looking well. I know Fred would have told you most of the details, but as you can see, I have not been well. That is no excuse however, and it distresses me greatly that you should have been subjected to such an ordeal through my behaviour. Please accept my profound apologies," her voice was reduced to a rough whisper as a result of repeated outbursts and a severely reduced diet. Any last traces of resentment John was holding vanished when he saw how truly wretched she looked. Her hair, which had been pinned into her usual elegant updo was not as bright or vibrant as he remembered, nor no longer seemed to constantly threaten to break out of its constraints. Her face still bore the angry red marks of self-inflicted scratches. The gauntness of her eyes and cheeks made her seem almost a different person altogether. John could not bring himself to stay angry at or attempt to understand the behaviour of such a pitiful creature.

"Miss Hale, please do not distress yourself on my account. I am none the worse for our unusual meeting. I believe we have met in still less pleasant circumstances than this. I accept your apologies and only hope that your health is improving"

"It improves as well as we can hope Sir, I thank you. While I remember, I must thank you for the return of Father's Plato, Mr Thornton. It has been a great comfort to me. Fred reading to me of an evening brings back cherished memories of Father reading to us as children. For that I am more grateful than you could know, if only I did not feel so wretched that I tore a token of your dear friend from your grasp"

"I am pleased that I could be of use to you Miss Hale. I returned the book of my own volition, do not distress yourself. I did more for the memory of my friend by doing what I could for his daughter than sitting about reading. Ease your conscience, there's no burden on it from me"

Frederick Hale was starting to feel more and more like a piece of living room furniture. He contented himself to sit and watch this exchange that was pleasant for the time being, ready to intervene if things became… less so.

After exchanges on the weather and the climate in Milton and the various workers Margaret had been acquainted with and the health of the other Thorntons, Frederick found his thoughts drifting to Cadiz, and his own Dolores. His eyes drifted closed before he knew their intention to do so.

Margaret was listening to Mr Thornton's report on the mill's recovery from the strike when Margaret glanced over and noticed Fred sprawled in his armchair, snoring lightly.

"Gracious. I fear we have rather bored my dear brother to sleep. I should let him rest, he has been so attentive to my care"

"You are lucky to be so close to your brother. I often fear Fanny would not be half so attentive to me"

"Pray God you never have to find out Mr Thornton, I would not wish this on anyone" Margaret winced as a cough overtook her, leaving Thornton scrambling to fetch her glass of water from where it had been placed by her Plato copy. Fred only shifted slightly in his seat before continuing slightly in his slumber. Margaret thanked him in a coarse whisper as she sipped at the water.

"You are too good a person to wish any more suffering than there already is, that has always been certain Miss Hale" John checked himself as he spoke, thinking the words too forward. Margaret merely blushed, the colour even more pronounced against the paleness of her cheeks.

"I thank you Sir. I am glad to see your opinion of me has improved, though I do not deny that I was deserving of your censure," she glanced at Fred again, remembering the source of all their misery.

"I thought you knew that I have held a high opinion of you for some time? Forgive me Miss Hale, but why were you so afraid when I came in? I thought you knew that Fred and I had cleared all those misunderstandings?"

"It is one thing to be told something – but my mind is such an uncertain place that I struggle to believe what I cannot see with my own eyes"

"Then listen to me Miss Hale. I have wronged you. In almost every way that a man can wrong a woman. I was behaving like a beast the first time we met, I did not stop to consider what an abominable impression I had made of myself. Of course you were shocked, of course you were angry. I spoke down to you, disdained you for not understanding the northern way of life. It was not your fault that you did not know any other home than your beloved Helstone. Then that night, at the station. Please know that I regret my actions that night and all that followed, deeply regret it"

"Why should you regret it Mr Thornton? You had no evidence to the contrary, your conclusions were perfectly understandable. I perhaps wish you had offered me more chances to explain myself, but I had not given you much hope to believe an explanation would be forthcoming"

"Because I did not give you a chance to be forthcoming. After my disastrous attempt at a proposal, my pride was so wounded that I lashed out at you at any given opportunity. I was selfish and wanted you to hurt as badly as I was. When you then lost your mother and father, the way that you did… I knew I was the worst sort of man who ever lived. I can't tell you how it has tormented me Miss Hale, and for that I beg your forgiveness"

Margaret was perfectly taken aback. Mr Thornton had poured his heart out to her, and she knew she was perfectly forgiven. There was no more misunderstanding between them.

And it broke her heart. That he should now perfectly understand her, and she him, at a time when a continuance of their acquaintanceship now seemed unlikely, even impossible.

She was spared the pain of a reply by her brother giving a great grunting snore as he suddenly jolted awake, floundering briefly in his chair before remembering where he was and who he was with.

"So sorry. Mr Thornton, what must you think of me, dozing off like that? Some great host I am, eh Maggie? So, what thrilling conversation have I missed?"

Margaret and John exchanged a look, reaching an unspoken agreement not to divulge what had passed between them. Margaret fixed a serene smile in place before turning back to her brother.

"Nothing of consequence Fred. Nothing at all"

So, I don't know when the next update of this will be. As mentioned in the starting notes, this is a heavy story to be focusing on for too long (still got some angst before our HEA) especially given the current circumstances. I'm working front line in a supermarket and my mental health is taking some hits right now. I have a plan in the pipeline for a more lighthearted story which I might focus on to keep people's spirits up. Read it when it goes live and tell me what you think.

I know these are scary times but we must rely on each other more than ever. If you are scared or worried, please talk to someone, we are all in this together. Drop me a PM if you are really stuck for someone to speak to.

Keep each other safe and have faith.

Sid x


	7. Chapter 7

I won't keep you here long – see the end of the chapter for full author's note.

Chapter 7

Delilah Shaw stared sceptically at this merchant friend of the Hale's as Fred performed the introductions, wondering at the sort of people Margaret had associated with while she was in Milton. She remembered when Margaret had first arrived, traumatised and beginning to ail. How she had wailed most pitifully for some person named Higgins, or some scrape called Mary. However, she remembered from her sister's sparse communication, that the Thorntons were people of import within Milton society, and that the son, Mr Thornton, had been gracious to her in her illness. They then could at least agree that Maria Hale was a woman worthy of the most tender care. She schooled her features into a polite smile and extended her hand to shake his, another scrap of information from Milton society she had gleaned from her niece and sister's letters.

Mr Thornton looked pleasantly surprised. He remembered his first attempt to shake Margaret's hand, and how disastrously that had ended.

"Margaret has been teaching us all Milton manners, Mr Thornton. You will find Mama and I have been excellent pupils," Edith explained, smiling pleasantly at Mr Thornton from her seat.

"Indeed, Margaret has been so eager to share her stories of her life in Milton, My dear sister also never had a cross word about her new friends in the letters she was able to send me, before her health became too frail," Mrs Shaw paused to dab at her eyes, still keenly grieving the sister she had been so fond of.

"I would have been grieved if she had. Mrs Hale was always so pleasant to myself and my family, I could only hope we showed her the same courtesy," Mr Thornton replied. He had already deduced that the best way to remain on Mrs Shaw's good side was to wax lyrical about Mrs Hale at any given opportunity. It was not too difficult. With reflection, it was easy to feel sorrow for the late Maria Hale. Wrenched away from the only life she had known, from her comfortable parsonage life in the clean southern air and all her nearest and dearest friends and relocated to what would have felt like the deepest darkest part of the north. Consumed with worry for a son she had not seen in years before he rushed to her deathbed, and the daughter she would not live to see married and well settled. She had died a woman burdened with sorrow and her daughter had narrowly avoided the same fate.

In death, Maria Hale was deserving of at least a little sympathy, and those who knew her could at least hope her spirit was appeased in the knowledge that her children were reunited and able to be a comfort to each other.

"Oh yes, Margaret told us of the gifts you would send her to cheer her and the help in seeking out treatments. I am grateful to you and yours, Mr. Thornton, for all you did to aid her in her final months," Mrs Shaw said, reaching out to firmly grasp his hand once more.

Mr Thornton, unsure of how to respond to this more emotional side of his host, returned the squeeze of his hand with a nod and a small smile.

No one needed to think of a way to carry on the conversation as Margaret then entered the room, having refreshed herself after an afternoon rest. She was laced into a dark blue dress with a cream shawl draped around her shoulders. She gave a small, elegant curtsy to Mr Thornton and held out her hand to shake his. Mr Thornton took it gently and shot her a wry smile.  
"Your Aunt and cousin have been showing me their grasp of Milton manners, Miss Hale. It is clear to see how they became so proficient, with such an excellent teacher"

"You are too kind Mr. Thornton. I am sure anything they have learnt needed to be first gleaned from my many ramblings about anything and everything. They should first be congratulated for being able to pay attention for so long," she replied.

"I remember your conversations at our dinner parties well Miss Hale. You would be able to hold any room captive, I am sure"

Both then paused and blushed, fearing the boundaries of polite conversation had been slightly overstepped. Aunt Shaw and Edith exchanged appraising glances while John silently cursed himself. Whenever he spoke to Margaret, his tongue ran away with him as he had never known it to do before. This was not the way to speak to a lady, never mind one as frail and unwell as Margaret. He cursed his lack of delicacy and looked to Fred for more appropriate conversation. Margaret, however, was slightly quicker on the mark than her brother.

"Mr. Thornton, may I perhaps be impertinent enough to enquire after your mother and sister? How is Mrs Watson finding married life?"

"She is finding it suits her well Miss Hale. She is enjoying the opportunity to decorate Mr Watson's

home with more garish wallpapers than Mother would ever allow her to adorn Malborough with. She is in London herself with Mother, perhaps she may call upon you and regale you with all the intricate details herself?"

"That would be most agreeable, I think we have no plans for the week?" she glanced to her Aunt for confirmation, and continued upon receiving a small nod "Tell your mother and sister they are welcome here at their pleasure"

"I will gladly bear the message to them Miss Hale"

Finally, Dixon came through to announce that luncheon was ready to be served. Margaret and Fred led John through to Aunt Shaw's splendidly furnished dining room. They were all seated and served a course of soup. Mr Bell, who had until this point been rather silent, now turned to Margaret and Fred.

"I forgot to mention, my dear godchildren, that my acquaintance in Helstone has written to me, and they are ready to accept us Monday next" Margaret and Fred exchanged delighted looks.

"That is wonderful news Mr Bell. My new dresses should be delivered tomorrow as well, so you will find us well prepared"

"You are leaving?" John blurted before he could check himself. Sometimes he wondered if he should just seal his mouth closed and be done with it. All eyes turned to stare at him, and he willed the ground to swallow him up.

"We are leaving for a short holiday back in Helstone Mr Thornton," Margaret explained, "The seaside air and sun will do us all the world of good, and Fred and I are so looking forward to exploring our old childhood haunts again"

"I see. I do hope that you have a… pleasant trip," John replied lamely, feeling more foolish by the second.

"With company such as these delightful young people, I am sure it shall be a marvellous trip!" Mr Bell replied jovially.

"You are too kind to us by far Mr Bell. Migsy, which do you think we should explore first? The cave we found on the beach with Father, or the tree Mother forbade us to ever climb again after I tore my best coat snagging it on a branch?"

"I don't know what made her angrier, that, or that I got mud all up my new church dress!"

John was content to sit in his chair and listen to these tales. It was strange to hear of a childhood so carefree and without hardship, but he was glad that Margaret had had such a childhood, for all the struggle she had endured in her adult years. He was also at leisure to study how the joys of recalling such treasured memories lit up her face, and how flickers of her old self began to shine through. John could once more appreciate the crinkles around her eyes that appeared whenever she smiled so widely that it consumed her whole face.

It just made saying goodbye later that afternoon all the harder.

He returned to the hotel, his mind all full of rather muddled thoughts to find his mother and sister waiting for him to go to dinner.

"Thank you for waiting for me. Did you ladies have an enjoyable day?"

"Oh there was enough to occupy us. We went to all the most fashionable shops to look at some clothes for the baby, and some dresses for myself when I grow larger. Do not look at me like that Johnny! Watson gave me more than a generous allowance to buy myself some things. I even offered to buy Mother some things, but she turned her nose up at almost everything! I'm in despair of her ever wearing something fashionable!"

Hannah Thornton rolled her eyes hard at her daughter's impertinence and turned to her son.

"How was your afternoon with Mr Bell? Did you see Miss Hale in the end?"

"It was productive. I will speak further on that front with you later Mother, I've had some good news for the mill. I did see Miss Hale, and she is recovering very well, all things considered"

It had been decided to tell Fanny that Margaret had suffered from a bad onset of flu, rather than reveal the full extent of her illness and risk Fanny's loose tongue wreaking havoc for them all.

"I do hope so! You are sure she is no longer contagious John? Watson would never forgive me if I lost the baby by exposing myself to disease!"

"She'll have had the best care in London Fan, calm down. Hysterics can't be good for babies either," John snapped back.

Fanny opened her mouth to argue back but was shut down with one hard stare from Mrs Thornton. John always thought that every mother in England should learn that look from his mother. It had ended many a childish squabble over the years.

"I'm intrigued by this development for the mill John, you can tell me over dinner. I think we could all do with some respite from talk of babies and nurseries"

Hannah Thornton, as ever, always had final say.

The next morning, Margaret and Edith were waiting by the window for the carriage bearing the Thorntons and Mrs Watson to arrive. Edith was almost amused to see Margaret had taken rather more care with her dress and toilette this morning than of late, and even now was anxiously smoothing down her skirts and fidgeting with her shawl. She took her cousins trembling hands in hers and squeezed them, holding them until she felt the shaking subside.

"I'm so nervous Edith. Fanny Watson is not famed for her gentle tongue. What if it is too much? What if I cannot hide my illness from her?"

"Dear cousin, this is your home. You may meet this Mrs Watson on your terms. She will leave at whatever time you desire, and not a moment later. Mama and I will be here to help you, and protect you from her more snide remarks"

"Thankyou dear cousin. In any case, I may yet escape unscathed. Simply keep her talking about her married life and tea party plans, and we should be alright"

Edith let out an unladylike shriek of mirth, no doubt exaggerated by the stress she felt for her cousin and held out her arms to give her a gentle and supportive embrace. They hugged, and then turned back to the window at the sound of whinnying horses and the rattle of carriage wheels.

Edith peered out of the window to see these new guests as they alighted and had a most amusing commentary.

"Is that the mother? My God, Migsy, she looks just as dragon-esque as you described!"

"Does Mr Thornton always look so stern? It does make him look so foreboding – I was so nervous yesterday!"

"Dear goodness, that must be the famed Mrs Watson! I can barely see her for her skirts!"

Margaret stifled a giggle with her fist at these more uncharitable observations. For all the uncouthness of the language, there was truth in Edith's observations.

Margaret gave the waiting tea tray a once over to check for anything missing. Satisfied with the assortment of cake and biscuits available to their guests, she and Edith took seats to await their guests.

Presently, the parlour door was opened by Dixon, and the three Thorntons shewn in. Margaret arose to perform the introductions.

"Mr Thornton, it is a pleasure to see you again. And it is so pleasing to see you again Mrs Thornton, Mrs Watson," she curtsied to each person as she spoke their name, "May I introduce my cousin? This is Edith Lennox" Edith rose, and curtsied gracefully.

"A pleasure to welcome you back Mr Thornton, and lovely to meet your mother and sister at last. You are most welcome here ladies. Please forgive my mother, Mrs Shaw for being absent, but alas she finds herself indisposed today"

"We thankyou for your kind welcome Miss Hale, Mrs Lennox. I hope your mother recovers soon Mrs Lennox" Mrs Thornton replied with her usual cool politeness.

"It is our pleasure. Please do all be seated," Margaret replied, gesturing to the circle of seats.

Mrs Watson made a great performance of adjusting her skirts to sit down, and if possible an even greater performance of fidgeting in her seat, rubbing her back and moving about, appearing unable to get comfortable. Margaret and Edith stared at her, puzzled, while John and his mother exchanged exasperated looks.

"Forgive me Mrs Watson, but are you alright? Is the seat not to your liking?" Margaret asked politely.

"Oh it is nothing Miss Hale. It is just so difficult to make yourself comfortable with a burden such as mine," Fanny replied with a long-suffering tone. Margaret merely looked more puzzled, while a slight glimmer of understanding lit up Edith's face.

"I am sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand Mrs Watson"

"I thought my brother would have told you Miss Hale. I am now expecting!" Fanny finally announced with a flourish, placing both hands upon her stomach. Margaret managed to fix a rather stunned smile to her face.

"Oh, that is marvellous. I…. I …. offer my congratulations. To you and Mr Watson," she managed to reply.

"I too have a child, Mrs Watson. I have a cushion that I placed upon any seat to ease my discomfort. I will gladly have it fetched for you," Edith offered sympathetically, bidding a maid to go and retrieve it.

"Why thankyou Mrs Lennox, it is so pleasing to speak with someone _sympathetic _to my toils," Fanny replied with a hard look at her mother and brother.

"I have offered you plenty of advice and remedies to alleviate your discomfort Fan. You are not the first woman in history to have borne a child you know," Mrs Thornton sternly reminded her daughter. Margaret and Edith exchanged glances as they sipped their tea, having to look away before they both burst out laughing.

"Yes, well… now that that is all out of the way," Fanny waved a dismissive hand, now eager to change the subject "I must say Miss Hale, you are not looking so dreadful as I expected, if not far too thin and pale. The London air must not be so refreshing as they say"

Edith opened her mouth, but Margaret placed a hand on her cousin's arm, bidding her to keep peace.

"I thankyou Mrs Watson. I am in far better health than I was. My brother and I are taking a trip to Helstone next week with our godfather Mr Bell, and I hope the sun and sea air will do much to restore me fully"

"Yes I have heard the tale of your brother! Is he here, it would be fascinating to meet him," Fanny peered around as though expecting Fred to leap out of the teapot.

"He is meeting with Mr Bell to review some legal documents, but they should both be returning shortly"

"Oh that all sounds dreadfully dull. What sort of legal things could they have to discuss?"

"Mr Bell is now our legal guardian, following the death of our parents. However, we are now both about to reach our majority, so he is preparing to sign over some property and monies left by our parents in their wills," Margaret explained, not wishing to divulge the true nature of her inheritance to the famously loose tongue of Fanny Watson.

Fanny had no reply to that, so subsided back into fidgety silence, only opening her mouth again to gush her thanks to Edith when the maid returned with the cushion.

John observed the unusual highness of the collar on Margaret's dress, no doubt to conceal the worst of her wounds from Fanny's sharp tongue and his mother's steely eye. He did not like it. It made her look so stiff and uncomfortable. He would rather she be able to be herself and not suffer cruel and invasive remarks. She caught his eye, and he hastily glanced down into his teacup, lest she somehow be able to surmise his thoughts.

"I hope your meetings with my brother and Mr Bell have not been too taxing on you Mr Thornton. Mr Bell can be quite eccentric when he wants I am afraid," Margaret offered with an apologetic smile.

"It's been no burden on me Miss Hale. I know enough of how to deal with him from my longstanding acquaintanceship with him. I am enjoying getting to know the younger Mr Hale. He has many interesting stories to tell me, and he has a fine sense of humour, although a little odd at times," John replied with a sage smile. Margaret let out a small chuckle.

"I must say, that is the most accurate summary of my brother I have ever heard. I am so pleased that you have been able to form an acquaintance with him"

"I have yet to meet a Hale I have been displeased by. It is enjoyable to converse with him," John yet again cursed his inability to speak sensibly in front of Margaret. Both his mother and sister stared appraisingly at him. He, the tallest one in the room, attempted to shrink into his seat like a child.

To his small relief, they were interrupted by Sholto bursting into the room, his ever put upon nanny hot upon his heels. To his mother's surprise, he clambered determinedly into the lap of his aunt, clamouring for affection.

"Hello my dear Sholto. Please be gentle darling, do not grab. No Sholto, we do not grab there – aah!"

In his haste for hugs from his aunt, Sholto had seized the delicate lace of her high collar in his little fist and accidentally torn it almost clean off. John started in alarm. The vicious red marks adorning her throat had been cut almost fresh open during some fresh episode, some still weeping a small amount of blood. She stared in horror at her guests, not even sure how to begin explaining.

Edith however immediately took the situation in hand. Scooping her son up to press into the arms of his nanny, she pulled Margaret to her feet and ushered her out of the room, urgently whispering soothing words to her.

In their wake, there was only shocked silence. Fanny stared at her brother and mother.

"What on Earth is happening here?"

I did enjoy writing Fanny announcing her pregnancy to Margaret, I feel like she would go for Maximum Drama Queen energy.

So I finally had the time/energy/sanity to work on this story. The response to my other story was slightly lacklustre which was a bit of a bummer. No worries. I have a firmer outline for this story plot so updates should be a bit more forthcoming.

Hope you're all keeping well and safe.

Sid x


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Fanny Watson, for all of her self-absorption and shrill hysterics, could have moments of intelligence. As her eyes flicked between her mother and brother she could deduce that as usual, there was something they were not telling her.

"Well one of you ought to begin talking! Or am I a child, to be kept in the dark as I always am?!"

"I'll not divulge what is not mine to tell Fan. Remember yourself," John snapped back, unwilling to deal with his sister's self-centredness.

"I don't know why you're taking such pains to defend her John! We all know she thought herself too high and mighty for any of us! I'm surprised she took the pains of inviting us Northern filth into her grand London dwelling," Fanny retorted in a tone laden with disdain. The usually unshakeable Hannah Thornton found herself on her feet, towering over her daughter.

"That is enough! I am sure I never raised such a daughter who would stoop to speak so low of a lady who has suffered as that lady has, and yet has still never spoken to us with nothing other than well-bred politeness and has graciously invited us into her home. Her perceived offences against our family are between her and your brother. If he considers them atoned and forgiven, then you would be wise to follow his example. And for once in your life, _hold your tongue!"_

But Fanny refused to submit meekly. Marriage and impending motherhood, it seemed, had made her bolder than usual.

"We all know her perceived offences Mother, the whole of Milton knows! Being out with strange men after hours, having the _audacity_ to reject John when he made her a fine offer, and the way she conducted herself during that riot! And now these marks upon her neck?! Is she a ruffian that brawls in bars, or -?"

"ENOUGH!" John bellowed. He opened his mouth to unleash yet more scorn on his sister, but they were interrupted by Fred bursting through the door.

"What on Earth is happening here Thornton? Wait, where are Margaret and Edith?" he demanded, glancing about the room.

"Margaret's dress was damaged by the child, they left to make the necessary adjustments to her gown," Hannah answered

"Sholto is always grabbing things he ought not to. But what in God's name is all the noise about?"

"I think the excitements of London have proven too much for my sister. My mother may escort her back to her hotel, unless she agrees to conduct herself more _sensibly_," John answered, staring at his sister hard as he intoned the last part. Fanny finally knew when she had overstepped. Mortified at having made a debacle of herself, she curtsied to Fred and her brother, and returned to her seat without a further word. A small part of her also argued that she may yet hear some choice gossip if she gave up this particular battle.

"Fred, is that you?" they all heard Margaret call down the hall.

"Indeed Margaret, I'm in the parlour," Fred called back to her.

Margaret stepped back into the room having changed into one of her usual dresses, the scratches now plain for all to see. Edith had cleaned and re salved the wounds and they looked markedly less severe. Fanny, however, was still staring at them completely agape.

"Miss Hale, what on Earth has happened to you?"

"Oh it is the most trifling thing Mrs Watson. Edith gave me a sample of perfume she brought back from her latest trip to Corfu, and I dabbed a little on my neck. We have deduced that I must be allergic to something in the bottle, as it made my skin so dreadfully itchy and swollen. As you can see, I almost scratched my skin clean off before we realised it was the perfume and made sure it was thoroughly washed off. The collared dress was just a new fashion I was trying, but I think we can agree with Sholto that it does not suit me"

Margaret made this reply with barely a bat of her eyelids or quaver in her voice. John did not know if this story had been agreed upon beforehand or hastily concocted while she changed dresses, but he commended the creativity, nonetheless.

Fanny suspected there was rather something more to this story, but it would not be seemly to call her hostess a liar, and she was already treading dangerous ground with her mother and brother.

"Goodness, where are my manners? Mrs Watson, may I introduce you to my brother, Frederick Hale? Fred, I believe you remember Mrs Thornton?"

"Lovely to meet you Mrs Watson. Delighted to see you again, and in much happier circumstances Mrs Thornton," Fred replied with a jovial smile.

"Indeed Mr Hale, it is good to see you so well settled. You must be pleased to back with your sister," Hannah replied.

It was true that it gladdened him to be back with Margaret but settled was hardly the word he would have used of late. True, Margaret's health and behaviour were finally beginning to settle, but he was now so caught up in the legalities of re-establishing his life in England that he had been constantly dashing from meeting to meeting, signing reams of legal papers and having many long and important talks. He had had to travel to the Navy's main headquarters and present himself to obtain an official recognition of his pardon. He had been on edge the entire time, terrified it was all a great hoax and he would be dragged to the gallows at any moment. Only when he had left the building, signed, and stamped letter in hand, had he taken the deepest breath he had allowed himself in a long while. From there, it had been a short battle with the bank to get his admittedly small assets unfrozen and returned to him. He had now also set the wheels in motion to obtain legal citizenship for Dolores to enable her to join him.

"There has been rather more paperwork involved than I anticipated Mrs Thornton, but I am sure things shall calm down soon enough. I am just lucky that we have such generous family to provide for us at such a time," Fred replied.

"Oh pish, dear Fred! We are simply happy that you are finally able to come home to us and our dear Migsy," Edith replied with a dismissive hand.

"Migsy?"

"It was my childhood nickname, Mrs Thornton. My cousin and brother are reluctant to give it up, as you see," Margaret replied with a jokingly stern look at her relatives.

Somehow, whenever he heard this youthful moniker, John was able to vividly picture Margaret as a child. A slight child, with her skirts short and her hair down, running free in the breeze as she capered in the fields and picked a crown of yellow roses. He thought of his own childhood by comparison. Pulled out of school to be told his father was dead, and that he must leave his childhood home, and go straight to work to support his mother and sister. That was how his life had been, shouldering the burden of earning an income to help his family, suffering after the sudden loss of his father. If only he could shoulder some of Margaret's burden to ease her suffering. There was no use in hiding away from it, his heart still pined for her. Knowing her innocent of all the dreadful things he once hurled at her in accusation, seeing her suffer as she lost first her mother and then her father, hearing of her suffering in her illness, had only sought to increase his affections for her. He tried to rebel against it. Surely it was indecent to still wish for a woman as frail and unwell as Margaret? A true gentleman would surely leave her to her convalescence in peace, not continue to entertain fantasies of taking her to the altar. He could feel a headache coming on, one that frequently appeared whenever his thoughts were running amok. He rubbed his forehead with his hand, sighing dejectedly and quickly realising the sound had come out louder than he intended.

"Gracious Mr. Thornton, are you feeling well?"

Starting to lose count of the amount of times it had happened, John once again looked up and found several pairs of eyes trained on him. He vaguely wondered whether it would be less fuss to have himself committed to Bedlam that very afternoon, before attempting to articulate a response.

"Forgive me, I found myself lost in… mill matters. There will be much to do now that Mr Bell has kindly seen me back on my feet," he replied, hoping that at least half the room bought the story. Everyone seemed content with the reply, but John had somehow forgotten to consider the sharp mind of his mother. She had seen how he had spent most of the afternoon staring after Margaret like a lost puppy, paying her all his half-hashed compliments and what a personal interest he had taken in her recovery. She could see clearly that he still held Miss Hale high in his affections but was also wary that to continue seriously considering her could only end in heartbreak on both sides. Still, Margaret and her brother were to be away to Helstone in a few days, and she, John and Fanny would return to Milton. She only needed to keep her bull-headed son in check a short while longer, and hopefully distance and time would put paid to any remaining affection.

"I am sure it shall be a lot of work; we do wish you the best Mr. Thornton," Margaret replied with a small smile.

"I am sure I shall back on track soon enough. I am fortunate to have good, sensible folk working for me. They will get the job done," John replied reassuringly.

"I hope you do Mr. Thornton; I'll be sure to see for myself on our visit," Fred replied teasingly. Splendid, Miss Hale wasn't the only Hale with a penchant for making fun of him.

Margaret turned to look at her brother quizzically.

"Visit? Whatever do you mean Fred?"

"I'm so sorry sister, I never told you. As Mr Thornton's new landlords, he wants us to visit and receive an overview of the mill's progress at least once a year. Won't that be something?"

"I find it a strange notion, I'll confess. Still, I was hoping we would return to Milton sometimes, to pay respects to… Mother and Father," Margaret faltered at the last, her expression becoming downcast and forlorn. Fred's expression became solemn as well, and he reached to squeeze his sister's hand reassuringly.

"They are together sister, and we could not ask more than that. You could visit all the friends you made and see how they are doing as well, it could be a good thing," Fred replied encouragingly.

Margaret still seemed anxious about something, wringing her hands, and worrying her lower lip. Fred saw that it would not be wise to engage her further on this, and merely patted her wrist comfortingly.

"No worries Migsy, we can think about it when we are back from our Helstone trip," he said to her quietly. Mrs Watson, however, could be counted upon to be about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

"I am sure Milton is nothing to your sainted Helstone Miss Hale, but surely you could lower yourself to such a visit from time to time," she threw out spitefully.

Margaret recoiled at the harshness of the tone, and screwed her eyes tight shut to stem the few traitorous tears that sprang to her eyes. Then a wave of anger rolled over her, and she replied with a harsher tone than anyone had ever heard her speak.

"You will forgive me, Mrs Watson, for being reluctant to visit a place that holds such painful memories. The last time I was in Milton was the last time my family was truly whole. My mother and father alive, and my brother by my side. Now look at us and see what is left? My brother would still be thousands of miles away and forbidden to return if not for one man's greed and complacency. I also lost one of the only people I have ever truly called friend. So you will again forgive me, if I do not feel the strength to _lower_ myself to such a visit as of yet," Margaret snapped back icily. She rose to her feet and dropped a surly curtsy to the room.

"Forgive me Fred, Edith, I find myself wearied from these excitements. I'm going to rest," Her voice, which was so warm and friendly before, was cold and monotone. She excused herself and departed the room, but John did not miss the pained look she gave him on her way out. Fred and Edith threw Fanny a disapproving look before departing the room after her.

John did not even look at his sister, but instead chose to address his mother.

"Mother, Fanny has clearly overexcited herself with all the thrills of London. See her back to the hotel so she may rest herself and the child. I shall join you both shortly"

The tremble of fury in his voice told his mother and sister that he would not accept any attempt at an argument.

Later on, with Fanny confined to her room for the remainder of the evening with the threat of severe reprimands from her brother when he returned, Margaret was also laying on her bed in Harley Street. She was staring at the ceiling, her thoughts too jumbled for any rest to come to her.

Aside from the reasons she had churlishly thrown at Mrs Watson, she had other reservations for returning to Milton.

Before her father had been suddenly taken from her, she knew she had begun to entertain a foolish hope that Mr Thornton would somehow renew his address to her or show by some sign that it would happen in the future. However, if being spied with Fred at Outwood had dimmed those hopes, everything that had followed had blown out the candle completely and stomped on it for good measure. Following her illness, Margaret knew the limitations that would be placed on her for perhaps the rest of her life. Her prospects of marriage now seemed altogether vanished. Many young men her age needed a sturdy healthy wife and would have no interest in caring for an invalid. Margaret also feared her illness had taken its toll on her fertility, as her courses had not been as regular and at one point had stopped altogether. A man had no use for a barren wife who could not bear his heirs. Milton would not only haunt her with the life that she had once lived, it would torment her with glimpses of the life she could have lived. Mr Thornton would have to marry at some point, and father sons to inherit the mill. She would have to meet with this new Mrs Thornton, and perhaps be invited to take tea with her while Fred toured the mill. She would have to watch this woman grow great with child, and perhaps see the dark-haired children she had hoped once to bear herself playing in the yard. Everything she had not known she wanted until it was a complete impossibility. John would return to Milton, marry, and forget all about her. She would spend the rest of her life cared for by relatives, shifted between households with no prospect of independence for herself.

There was nothing for it. She would simply have to wait for him to return to Milton, and hope that distance would quash any remaining sentiment she had for him.

Author Note:

Fanny got SERVED. I loved writing every minute of that. So we know now where both characters stand in their opinions of the other.

I know it all looks gloomy for poor Margaret, but I promise it will get better for her! Bear with me.

Sid x


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I'll not keep you, see end of chapter for notes.

Fanny Watson was at least sensible enough to finally know when she was defeated, and it was a much more subdued woman that was reluctantly shown back into the parlour at Harley Street. Her brother had stayed at the house for another half hour the afternoon before, offering frantic apologies to Fred.

"I'll not tolerate another word from your sister! The constant barbs and sniping will not benefit Margaret's recovery, and I will not hear such aspersions upon her character!" Fred had been almost incandescent with rage, although this argument took place in very hushed tones as not to disturb his resting sister. Fanny's remarks about how Margaret could have gained the scratches on her neck had got back to Fred, and he had been less than impressed.

"Again Fred, I can only apologise desperately for her. She always was silly and careless and being with child has only made her even more so. I did not realise myself the level of animosity she bore towards your sister. She will be brought into line, I swear"

Fred stared hard at John then.

"Why are you so determined that our sisters reconcile? You are away back to Milton in a few days, Margaret and I bound to Helstone. Their paths may likely barely cross again"

John fought hard against the instinct to blurt out that this was not how he wanted to part ways with Margaret. She had only just begun to understand his mind, that he no longer thought ill of her and was perfectly willing to be her friend. He did not want this final encounter mired by his sister's loose tongue.

"Miss Hale may yet have to endure Fanny's company if she returns to Milton. I would like them to be at least civil to each other. I'll not have business interrupted by my sister's churlish squabbles"

Fred was willing to stake a lot of money that this was far from the truth of it, but he nodded in surrender regardless.

"That's a big 'if' you're gambling on there Thornton. You saw how Margaret wanted to bolt from the room at the thought of another visit to Milton. You may not have to worry about any churlish squabbles for a good while yet"

Then he'd pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration before running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Very well. Bring your mother and sister back tomorrow afternoon to take tea. I'll talk Aunt Shaw into letting them back into the house without summoning the constable. That sister of yours behaves, or you'll never be welcomed in any polite London circle again. Don't underestimate Aunt Shaw on that," Fred warned John, before showing John to the door, citing the need to see his sister and seek some refreshment. John had returned to the hotel to find Fanny and their mother sitting waiting for him.

"I'm not even going to begin to explain why your behaviour today was so abominable. You're a grown woman, you've enough sense to work that much out for yourself. Miss Hale has been seriously unwell the last few months, no doubt brought on by the shock of losing both her parents. That's all you need to know and all you will ever hear on the topic. We're going back tomorrow and you WILL apologise, and you'll keep a civil tongue in your head. Do not forget that her Aunt is well connected in London society. Seriously offending her nearest and dearest will not do any good to your prospects of being welcomed into London circles. A single uncivil word out of your mouth tomorrow, and you'll be on the first train back to Milton and kept there until you have given birth. Am. I. Understood?"

Fanny nodded meekly.

"Yes brother. I will retire now, goodnight. Goodnight, mother"

It was this meek and humbled creature that now curtsied to Edith.

"Good afternoon Mrs Lennox. I hope you are well and will forgive me for my repellent behaviour yesterday. I fear the pains of expecting have overwrought me, and I quite took leave of my senses. I shall endeavour to keep a better temperament"

Edith, usually so cheery and flighty, stared back at Fanny gravely.

"I thank you for your apology, but it is not me that needs to hear it. Margaret will be joining us shortly; she is refreshing herself after a morning rest"

Fanny nodded and gently lowered herself into the seat she was offered. Edith had to stifle a giggle at the sight of her shrinking under the intimidating glares of both her mother and brother.

After some stilted conversation about the weather and the Thornton's stay in London, the parlour door opened, Margaret quietly slipping through the gap. John could instantly tell that she had not been getting much rest at all. The circles under her eyes were much more pronounced and she drew her shawl very tight around herself, almost as if protecting herself from something. She offered a weak smile when she saw him and bobbed her head in greeting.

"Mr. Thornton, it is good to see you again. I am sorry for my lateness"

"There is no need for apologies. I only hope we did not interrupt your rest," John replied, turning to stare at his sister, subtly clearing his throat as her cue to stand and address Margaret.

"Miss Hale, I must apologise for my thoughtless and careless conduct yesterday. I did not think that you would of course be still keenly grieving the loss of your parents, and that you cannot think on Milton without great sadness. I know that it held a great deal of sadness for me after the death of our father, and it was insensitive to not think that you were suffering the same anguish. I do hope you will forgive me"

Margaret did not honestly believe Fanny to be an inherently malicious person. Theatrical, sometimes a little oblivious and often clumsy in her compliments, but not intentionally cruel. She fixed a tired smile to her face.

"I thank you Mrs Watson and do freely forgive you. I must also apologise that I was less than civil in my replies to you. I have not been receiving many visitors while I have been ill, and fear I have fallen out of practice," Margaret replied with a tired, self-deprecating smile.

That was one of the things John admired most about Margaret. She would do anything to spare the feelings of those around her, even those who were less than deserving of her sympathy.

"You did not say anything I did not deserve Miss Hale, please do not worry yourself on my account," Fanny replied gently. The conversation then moved to cautious but altogether more pleasant topics, such as Fanny's plans for the child she was carrying. Margaret learned that John had not been exaggerating when he said that his sister could now rhapsodize about a great number of baby related matters for quite some time. Within about a half hour, Margaret had almost memorized the lists of names Fanny was considering, exactly the number of little gowns she had already ordered, as well as exactly where she was planning to order her own altered dresses as she grew larger. Not to mention how many yards of fabric she would need to sew all the baby's bedding and a list of the best toymakers in London. The amount of preparation needed for one little babe seemed overwhelming, Margaret felt almost glad to be spared it.

Fortunately, just as Fanny was running through her shortlist of friends and business partners of Watson's that were in the running for position of godparents, a maid knocked on the door.

"Forgive the interruption Miss Hale. A package has been delivered to you from Mrs Rivers"

"Thankyou Anna, please could you bring it in here?"

"Mrs Rivers? Was that not the dressmaker we went to see?" Mrs Thornton asked her daughter.

"Indeed Mother. We looked, but as she does not make maternity gowns I did not see the need to employ her services," Fanny replied, attempting to sound indifferent but only filled with longing for the beautiful drawings they had been shown. Unfortunately, the woman tended to cater for younger women and girls, and therefore could not be of much use to the expecting Mrs Watson, or the older Mrs Thornton.

"I am sorry she was not satisfactory to you Mrs Watson. She has made me some new gowns for our impending trip to Helstone. Would you like to look at them? I would so wish to see that you approve of them"

Margaret knew that her tastes would always be too plain for Mrs Watson, but also knew that she would not be able to resist looking over some new dresses.

"I would very much like that Miss Hale"

Anna returned, she and another maid carrying an exceptionally large box between them. John rushed to help by opening the door – the poor girls looked like the box was about to topple them both

"Oh, goodness! I do apologise girls; I did not know the box would be quite so big! I only ordered a few dresses!"

"No worries Miss. It's not heavy, just awkward is all. Thank you Sir, wish more London men were as helpful as you," the second girl replied. Jane, her name was. Margaret quite liked her; she had the most amusing habit of speaking whatever what was on her mind. Jane had also seen some of Margaret's most severe episodes, so Margaret forgave the occasional blunt honesty. It was also amusing to see Mr Thornton's reaction (was that a blush on his cheeks?) as he replied gruffly.

"Thankyou. May I recommend Milton as a holiday destination?"

Margaret couldn't resist the smile that came to her face.

"Girls, you are witnessing history in the making. Mr Thornton is telling a joke," Margaret told them in a serious tone, though the impish smile on her face would suggest she was not being serious at all. Edith also had to hide a smile behind her hand.

"Do not let word spread amongst my workers. They would have a conniption to know that their master is, in fact, a human being," John replied drolly. Margaret and Edith giggled at his rather unusual sense of humour.

"We shall guard your secret with our lives," she promised, that grin still in place.

Just then, Anna came back into the room.

"Pardon the intrusion, I'm to bring a message to Mr Thornton. Mr Hale and Mr Bell are in the second parlour, and wonder if you would join them for some brandy?"

"Certainly. I apologise for leaving you ladies, and thankyou for the fine company," John replied, addressing the four ladies, though most probably knew his reply was more for Miss Hale's benefit.

"You are probably escaping at a most opportune moment, Mr Thornton. I fear once that box is open, the talk shall be of nothing but lace and ribbon!" Margaret replied reassuringly.

Once John had left to seek out the other men, Margaret finally lifted the lid on the large box, and all moved to admire the fine clothes within. Margaret pulled out the top dress, a lavender concoction with a modest round neckline. She was pleased that Mrs Rivers had worked Dolores' gift of Spanish lace into a pretty collar that sat on the neckline of the dress. She held it up to herself for the other ladies to see and was relieved to see Fanny's expression warm a little, and her head move in a little nod of approval.

"It is a lovely dress Miss Hale. Mother, perhaps we could give Mrs Rivers another visit when I have delivered?"

John made his way down the hall to find Fred and Mr Bell. He found them both seated at the table in the parlour, Fred scrawling his signature on the last of some papers for Mr Bell. They both turned at the sound of the door and Fred rose to greet him.

"Ah John, excellent. I apologise for not inviting you to join us sooner, but we were just reviewing the last of some paperwork, it was all dreadfully tedious. I'm sure the ladies were much better company. How are our sisters getting along?"

"Much better, thankfully. My sister has finally learnt her place, and learnt it well. She will conduct herself accordingly now. My mother is still supervising her, so we can be assured of her good behaviour"

Fred's face relaxed.

"Good. Edith is in there as well anyway, she will able to send for us if there is a serious problem anyway. The brandy is there, help yourself. Can I interest you in a game of chess?"

John Thornton did not like to lose at anything. However, a few games later, he had to declare himself thoroughly beaten, after an extremely poor attempt at the first chess game he had played in years. Admittedly, returning to the chess board had brought back memories of his father teaching him the game as a child, so he had been distracted, thinking back to that short period of idyllic calm in his life. Then how it had been so totally and utterly shattered by his father's death. He determined to engage the gentlemen on a more pleasant topic to distract himself.

"When do you think your wife will be able to join you Fred?"

"Oh that won't be for a good while yet. I've yet to establish where we will reside permanently. I like the idea of remaining in London so Margaret can remain close to Edith and Aunt Shaw, they've all become so close the last few months. But at the same time, she and I were made for the country, and staying cooped up in the city would frustrate her endlessly. She's already bored of the small park Aunt Shaw permits her to walk most mornings"

"Might you return to Helstone?"

"Perhaps," Fred replied thoughtfully, "It's a lot to organise. Houses in Helstone can be expensive, I'll need to find some other source of income. Margaret and I are alike in that we must keep busy; we weren't built for idleness. We couldn't be like those grand folks that reside in their manors. I'll also need to make sure there's a good local doctor who could treat illnesses like Margaret's"

"I've already offered to enquire about all of that on your behalf Fred. You'll learn this about the Hales Mr Thornton. Everything must be done by them or it cannot have been done correctly," Mr Bell piped up over the top of the book he had been pursuing.

"I have every confidence in your abilities Mr Bell. I just do not wish to inconvenience you is all. It's a lot to arrange," Fred replied with a roll of his eyes to John at his godfather's impertinence.

"Many hands make light work my boy. At least let me enquire about houses. I know some landlords who operate in Helstone"

"Very well, I shan't complain at a small amount of help," Fred conceded "Well John, do you want to see if you can prevail over me at chess, or shall we re-join the ladies? We have been cooped up in here rather a while"

"Let us join the ladies, Fanny will need to return to the hotel soon to rest anyway"

Fred could not repress a small smirk as he stood up.

The men proceeded down the hall, and re-entered the lady's parlour. However, they were instantly greeted in hushed tones, where Edith pressed a finger to her lips and pointed to the settee, where they saw Margaret curled up asleep.

"Poor thing fell asleep not long after we put the dresses away. We felt it better to let her rest. I have been sharing my experiences of childbearing with Mrs Watson"

Despite her initial iciness to the other lady after her behaviour yesterday, Edith had eventually found her to be not bad company when she could carry a sensible conversation.

"Perhaps we should take our leave then? Miss Hale should rest as much as possible and recover her strength," John suggested, rebelling against his impulse to curl up next to her and stroke the rogue strands of hair away from her face.

Suddenly, Margaret began to twitch and mumble in her sleep.

_She was walking through a field, which she recognised as being close to the old parsonage in Helstone. She looked up, and sure enough, there was the house itself. Astonishingly, everyone she knew was there. There was Mother and Father, and Fred. Oh, and there was dear Bessie, and Nicholas and Mary stood next to her. There was Edith and Aunt Shaw, and Henry and Captain Lennox, Sholto standing next to his parents. There were the Boucher children, and an assortment of childhood acquaintances she had not seen in years. And finally, sure enough, there were the Thorntons, standing next to Mr Bell. She raised her hand to wave to them all, and they all seemed to wave back to her, calling out to her. _

"_Come, join us Margaret!"_

"_Margaret, over here!" _

"_This way Margaret!" _

_She lowered her arm, and took a step forward to walk towards them. However, the moment that she stepped forward, the smallest Boucher lad, staring at her so solemnly, simply melted into thin air. None of the others assembled seemed to notice or pay this any mind, continuing to call out to her. _

_She stepped forward again nervously, and an old childhood friend, Penny, Margaret thought her name had been, melted away too. Perhaps it is a trick of the light, and they are hiding elsewhere, Margaret thought. She quickened her pace nervously, and yet more and more of her old friends and relations continued to melt away. All the Bouchers gone, Nicholas and his daughters too. _

"_Where are you going?" she called "Come back!" _

_She took the last few steps at a run, and burst through the gate to find the previously full garden completely empty. She gasped for breath; the running had fatigued her. She noticed a most pleasantly inviting chair next to her, and sank into it. No sooner had she reclined into it, then chains shot out of the chair, binding her wrists and ankles. She thrashed against the chains desperately but it was no use. Then, faceless men appeared, in long white robes. They did not speak, but simply picked up the chair and began bearing her away. _

"_Who are you? Where are we going? Put me down!" She cried repeatedly, but they gave her no answer. The sunny visage of Helstone melted away, and suddenly she was in a large, bare room, with cold stone walls. She was still in her chair, and she managed to turn her chair in time to see one of the faceless men slam a large wooden door shut, and the metallic click of a key in a lock. Bizarrely, she could still hear the voices of those she had seen assembled calling to her. _

"_Margaret, where are you?"_

"_Where am I? Let me out!" _

"_Margaret, over here Margaret!"_

"_Oh please let me go. Please, please, let me go!"_

"_Margaret!"_

"_Let me go!" _

"Margaret!"

The final anguished cry of her name finally jolted her awake. Her wrists still felt bound, and she thrashed wildly, before realising it was Fred kneeling by the sofa she was lain on, holding her wrists to try and still her. She gazed frantically about the room, wide eyed. Everyone was staring back at her with fright and concern. Mrs Watson and her mother were in the corner, Fanny having placed one protective hand over her stomach and another over her mouth in shock. Mrs Thornton's expression was unreadable, but she had her arms tight around her daughter's shoulders. Edith was not in the room. Perhaps gone to fetch Aunt Shaw. Fred was beside her, Mr Bell and Mr Thornton ferreted away in another corner. Both were looking concerned, but Mr Thornton was staring at her with such anguish that it near broke her heart.

She caught her breath back with wild heaves of her chest as she stared in anguish at her brother. He did not say anything, merely stroked her cheek reassuringly and whispered soothing nothings to her. Her bottom lip wobbled dangerously at the memory of the dream, and it was like a dam broke in her. She threw herself into Fred's chest, and curled up tight against it, sobbing and sobbing for the heartbreak of seeing all her loved ones only to lose them once again. Fred wrapped his arms tight around her and rocked her like he would rock a child, continuing to whisper to her. The Thornton's could do nothing else but watch this haunting display, until they were distracted by a clattering at the door. Mrs Shaw came through the door, took one glance at her sobbing niece, and then threw a hard stare at the Thornton's. Fred's chest filled with dread with what was probably about to occur.

"Who is responsible for this?!"

"Aunt, please, it wasn't" –

"I heard enough about your behaviour yesterday, _Mrs Watson, _to know the havoc you are capable of with that tongue of yours! Explain, this instant!"

"Mama please, Mrs Watson did ap" –

"I hope you are happy now! First that filthy town of yours kills my beloved sister, and now look what you have done to her daughter!"

"Mrs Shaw, if I could explain" –

"Are you satisfied now, that you have dragged one who was once above you down to this pitiful wretch you see now? Are you content, that you can take this back to your hovel of a town to feed your gossip mills? Would you like to stare at the spectacle some more, or must I summon the constable to see you out?!"

"Aunt Shaw, please, listen!"

Only the heartbroken cry of her niece could diffuse her mighty tirade, and all turned to stare at her. She was still caged in her brother's protective embrace, but sat up enough to be able to turn her tear stained face upon her Aunt.

"Aunt please. I fell asleep after looking at all my pretty new dresses, and I had a terrible dream, that is all! Please apologise to the Thorntons, it was very wrong to accuse them like that! Mother was already so ill before we left Helstone, it was not Milton that killed her!"

Mrs Shaw faltered slightly, staring at her niece. She then turned her gaze upon her nephew and daughter, asserting that this version of events was correct. They nodded their agreement, and she stiffly squared her shoulders before facing the Thorntons again.

"I am very sorry for my indecorous behaviour. The safeguarding of my niece is of upmost importance to me, and I should not have hurled accusations about as I just did. Forgive me" she made no mention of apologies for the way she had spoken about Milton, but John did not press the issue.

"I too would be most aggrieved to see my sister in such a state, and would be quick to temper. The offence is forgiven," John replied, biting down anger with every word. At mention of his sister, Mrs Shaw glanced over at Fanny.

"Perhaps it would be best if you left now. Your sister has had quite enough excitement for the day, and should rest before any harm comes to the child," she offered listlessly, gesturing towards a footman who was waiting with their coats.

"Indeed. Please recover soon, Miss Hale. Enjoy your trip to Helstone," John took the lead, and found his voice weary as he addressed Margaret. Her face still streaked with tears, she could only gaze back at him.

"Indeed, Mr Thornton. I hope your journey back to Milton is not too arduous, and that the mill will be safe again soon," she replied, her voice quiet and shaky. The quiet tremor of her voice pulled at him, but he must leave, before he make another emotional display. He took his coat and hat, and was gone towards the main door in a whirl of wool.

Fanny and her mother also filed out.

"I do apologise for the scene you have just endured. I hope you will recover Mrs Watson, and have a safe journey home. I do apologise Mrs Thornton, I hope your grandchild will bring you joy," Margaret said in a still quavering voice.

Mrs Thornton reached over and somewhat awkwardly, patted her hand.

"Do feel better soon Miss Hale. Do not worry about us"

"I shall write you when the child is delivered, if you like Miss Hale?"

"I would like that very well Mrs Watson"

Both ladies filed out, and were also gone. Margaret put her head in her hands and fought back another round of sobs. She had failed. She had not hidden the extent of her illness from the Thorntons. Now Mr Thornton knew what a weak and frail creature she was, and would have nothing more to do with her. He had sounded so cold, so distant, and had been so eager to be out of there. And tomorrow, away back to Milton, far from her.

He was truly lost to her.

Author Note: This chapter is brought to you by the surrender to a Spotify Premium trial, just to make the adverts _go away.  
_Again, a bit more doom and gloom, but I live for the drams. It WILL get better from here. I couldn't not let Fanny see how bad it was. Perhaps she will be a bit less of a biotch now, no?

Restrictions are finally starting to lift where I am, so I might get to spend some actual time with my partner who I have not seen properly for like 4 months. I'll try to whack out some more chapters to tide you over. I think this will be concluded by the 20th chapter. I'm aiming for that number.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

We made it to the double digits! *throws confetti* Let me know what you're thinking of the story so far – we are now at the halfway point!

About an hour had passed since the Thornton's abrupt departure and Margaret was alone in her room, sprawled on the settee she often relaxed on if she did not want to take to her bed. She did not care that her current appearance was most unladylike. She was alone, the only person likely to disturb her was Dixon, who had seen her in far worse states. She was, for what felt like the thousandth time that week alone, simply staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

It was surely madness to still have hopes for Mr Thornton's addresses, after everything that had passed between them, after everything he had seen?

"_Perhaps I have gone truly and irreversibly mad, and shall never truly recover," _Margaret mused to herself. Edith had told her, after the Thorntons had left, of how she had shrieked and flailed for almost two minutes before they had been able to wake her. She pulled the blanket she was laying on tight around herself then, wanting to hide away from the misery that overwhelmed her. She had been doing so well, and then to make that much of a spectacle of herself!

It was so cruel, that at the point when all rifts and misunderstandings between the Thorntons and herself seemed healed and forgotten, her illness crept back up to try and reclaim her.

But perhaps it was for the best, Margaret thought on. It was a reminder that any life as a Thornton she had wished for was now a complete impossibility. She was too ill, too frail. She would never survive a return to Milton. John's reputation would never survive the gossip that was surely still attached to her, and he would not want an invalid wife mired in scandal. Perhaps he would make things official between himself and Miss Latimer, they had seemed all but wedded themselves at his sister's wedding.

Her heart rebelled at the thought of seeing them together, then reminded herself it was none of her concern. Why would she wish to return to Milton? She and Fred were only just brought back together after so many years of not knowing if he was dead or alive. She could not bear to leave him again so soon, confined to yearly visits and Christmas letters. He had made some noise about seeking permanent residence in Helstone for them. Would that not be much more preferable? To return to her childhood home, where she had been the happiest she'd ever been, with her brother and his family? To play with her nieces and nephews and drink tea with the sister-in-law she was anxious to meet, all in the clean fine southern air? To rest and grow stronger in the warm sun and fresh air? Returning to Milton with its cold air and smoky streets would surely be her undoing? No, it was not practical, and it was not possible. Best to put it all from her mind.

But oh, that they should part on such a note! He, reminded that she was so ill and weak of mind, when they had been laughing and joking with one another not a few hours before! If she could have but one wish, it would be that he could have left London with happier memories of her. She turned her head to the side and her eyes fell upon a bundle of fabric and a package she had discarded on her dresser a few hours before. She sat bolt upright with a gasp, and as she dashed to retrieve it, she could only hope that she was not too late.

She stuck her head out of her door, knowing Anna was somewhere in the vicinity, as she dusted this hallway every afternoon.

"Anna? Could you run an errand for me?"

John met his mother and sister in the hotel foyer, his packed valise in his hands. The lady's cases were already on the way to the station, too heavy for the ladies or for John to manage single handedly.

Just as they were about to leave, they were distracted by the sight of Anna bursting through the door. Her chest was heaving as though she had run the whole way there and her bonnet was clinging to her head by a hairpin. She wildly scanned the room until her eyes fell upon the Thorntons, and her whole demeanour instantly relaxed. She composed herself, straightened her attire, and walked over.

"Mr Thornton… I am glad I have caught you in time. My mistress - bid me to give you these. She meant to give… you them on your visit earlier, but we were all unfortunately distracted. She bids me to assure you that - she is much recovered and hopes - your journey will not be too long"

She rattled off this great speech in heaving gasps and then handed him the packages he had only just noticed her clutching to her chest. A great stab of curiosity overcame him, but he won over the urge to rip them open there and then. He merely clicked open his valise and dropped them inside.

"Thank you Anna. You seem to have come at great speed. I hope you are not fatigued?" He had not meant to sound snappish, but he was rather taken aback at her sudden entrance.

Anna shook her head then, not quite looking him in the eye, as she had been staring at the floor the whole time. John supposed he may come off as intimidating. She seemed as though she would barely reach his chest stretched on tip toe, small for her grand age of fifteen years old. Anna would not have had much interaction with men beyond the grand gentlemen she would have taken coats from, served drinks, and taken away empty plates, so talking to one almost completely on her own would seem especially alien to her. He endeavoured to employ a softer tone so as not to frighten her off men altogether.

"Thank Miss Hale for her delivery. Tell her we are glad to hear she is recovered, and hope she will only continue to improve. Assure her we are not afflicted by the events of this afternoon besides concern for her well-being," he replied, which she acknowledged with a nod and a quick curtsy.

"Thankyou. I must return to my mistress. She will be greatly cheered to know that I found you in time. Good day and safe travels. Sir, madam, madam," she curtsied to each of the Thorntons as she spoke, and then was gone almost as quickly as she had arrived.

John stared after her dumbly for a second, wishing he could follow her back to her mistress and sit with Margaret a little while longer, yet was interrupted by his sister's shrill tones.

"John, the train!"

John could barely keep his mind off the mysterious packages, and his distractedness almost missed them the train back to Milton. Thankfully, they got themselves comfortably settled in their compartment just in time for the train to glide out of the station.

He thought that he might wait until he was home and open them in the privacy of his office. However, the pointed looks of his mother and sister told him that this was becoming less and less likely by the minute.

"Alright, fine!" He threw his hands up in exasperation and pulled the packages out of his bag. He pulled open the soft, light one first and found, bizarrely, a small array of children's clothes in various sizes. Shirts, trousers, some small dresses, and little knitted hats and scarves, as well as socks and undergarments. He was puzzled at first, and then noticed a letter that had fallen out of his bag when he pulled the parcels out. He just recognised the swirl of Margaret's handwriting, though it seemed hurried and scrawled, and tore it open.

_Mr Thornton, _

_I do hope these packages found you in time. I wished to bring them myself, but it would have been impossible to get out of the house without a chaperone, and Anna is some five times faster than myself. _

_I merely enclose some clothes that I have made for the Boucher children, and would ask you to pass them to Higgins for me, with my best wishes to he and his family. If they will not take them, perhaps Mrs Watson may make use of them? I am sure she would be able to rework them into something much more fashionable for her children. _

_Despite your many assurances to the contrary, I do continue to feel wretched about taking back Father's Plato. While I am not yet ready to part with this cherished possession of my father's, you should not be deprived of this fine piece of literary work. Therefore, hoping you shall not scold me too deeply for any expense incurred, I purchased you a copy to keep for your very own, which I also enclose with an eased conscience. _

_I do hope you and your family are recovered from the shock of the manner of our parting, and understand that the mortification you must feel is surely nothing in comparison to my own. I only pray that we can continue to be friends, even if from a distance. _

_Fred and I are away to Helstone tomorrow for three weeks. Should you ever find yourself in London when we are returned, I do hope you will come to call upon us again. _

_I am yours, most sincerely _

_M. Hale_

"_I am yours, most sincerely," _John thought to himself. How he wished she could be saying those words to him with an entirely different meaning. A quiet clearing of a throat reminded him there were people keen to hear the contents of the letter, but found he did not feel up to sharing.

"She wishes me to pass the clothes to the Boucher children, she was always fond of them. The book is just some piece about army life that Fred recommends"

"She was also so fond of her charity work," Mrs Thornton murmured, in a tone that was neither approving nor disapproving. Fanny inspected Margaret's needlework and deemed that it "would suit for those children"

John merely stared out the window, his thoughts muddled and running amok with half formed dreams of dark-haired children with deep brown eyes.

Margaret stepped off the southbound train and took a bracing lungful of coastal air. She could feel it fortifying her lungs instantly. She accepted Fred's arm to walk to the waiting carriage that would commit them to Helstone. The ensuing journey did not consist of much conversation as Margaret could not pull her eyes away from the passing scenery long enough to engage in whatever trifling matter the gentlemen were discussing. Her worries and cares had not entirely melted away, but the wind (it was always very blowy on the south coast) in her ears and the smell of the flowering blooms around her were definitely pushing them into a tiny disregarded corner of her mind. They alighted from the carriage in the centre of the village where her father's parish had been situated, and wandered idly through the village, making their way to the church where he had preached. As they stepped through the large wooden doors, Margaret felt as though they had stepped back in time. As she gazed around the pews and up at the pulpit and altar, she could vividly picture her father preaching up in the pulpit of a Sunday afternoon. She remembered sitting in the pews as a child, often whispering and giggling with Fred when their attention began to wander, before their knuckles were sharply rapped by their mother. After services, they would play in the graveyard with other children while their parents conversed with various parishioners. Hide and seek, tag, leapfrog, any game a young child's mind could think of. Sometimes Fred or one of the other boys would bring a ball in their jacket pocket and they would play catch.

The echoes of childish shrieks of laughter were still ringing in her ears when Fred gently called her name.

"Migsy?"

She turned to gaze at Fred serenely, feeling the calmest she had felt in months.

"Sorry Fred, I was in a world quite of my own there. What is the matter?"

"Nothing urgent. We are engaged to a friend of Mr Bell's for luncheon. He wonders if we are ready to go?" he asked, proffering his arm hopefully. Margaret linked her arm through it, smiling up at him.

"He has been so good to us, it would be churlish to keep him waiting," Margaret concurred, following her brother out of this rabbit hole of memories.

They found Dixon seated on a bench with Mr Bell. Both seemed to be sitting in a companionable sort of silence. Dixon sat with her face turned up to the sun, her eyes closed as she almost drank in the warmth and cheery brightness. Mr Bell was leaning both hands upon his cane and seemed, like his goddaughter, to be lost in a parallel world. His head snapped round at the sound of their approaching footsteps and he nodded.

"There you are children, excellent. Oh – forgive me. You are both certainly long past childhood now," he smiled almost sadly, remembering things that were long gone.

"Do not worry about it Mr Bell. Who is this excellent friend we are to dine with?" Fred asked, deftly changing the subject.

"You may yet remember Mr and Mrs Rawlings; they have lived in this little corner of heaven almost all their lives. You probably remember playing with their son Jonathan"

"Oh, Jonathan's mother and father! Is he here too? Did you not have a girlish fancy for Jonathan at some point Migsy?" Fred laughed as he dodged the replying swat.

"He was at one time the only boy of my acquaintance who did not pull my hair or try to get mud on my skirts. That was the only basis for my attraction. I was also only nine years old, if you recall," Margaret replied in a dignified tone. Mr Bell chuckled at the antics of his godchildren.

"Well I am terribly sorry my dear, but I'm afraid Jonathan is long married and away to London. He still brings his wife and their veritable hoard of children down to visit from time to time," Mr Bell told Margaret, somehow keeping a straight face.

"I can assure you Mr Bell, that I will endeavour to overcome this heartbreak and rally my heart," Margaret tried so hard to keep a solemn tone, but a smile kept threatening to take over. Mr Bell's heart soared to see her so light-hearted and at ease. If he had known that this was the best way to ease the burden of her grief, he would have taken her away from Milton with him.

No, no use pondering on the things he should have done, he would be better thinking of the things he could do now.

They were now at the Rawlings' cottage, and an elderly man and woman came out to greet them. Mr Rawlings had once worked building houses, and Margaret remembered him as a vast giant of a man. He was still tall, but had grown rather portly in his retirement. Margaret supposed that would happen when one had unlimited time to consume his wife's cooking. Mrs Rawlings was a great lover of cooking and baking, and there had always been a great selection of cakes and biscuits available to peruse whenever Jonathan invited them to play. She was almost exactly as Margaret remembered her, if grey haired and wrinkled. She was tall like her husband, with long fingers that were always busy, as she even now was turning them over and over in the folds of her apron as if to wipe something away. They were ushered into a very cheerful looking parlour with all the usual exchanges of pleasantries. Fred and Margaret sat together opposite the Rawlings and were properly appraised.

"My goodness, I haven't seen the two of you together in years," Mrs Rawlings began, "You are both so very like your parents, God rest their souls. We were deeply grieved to hear of their passing. I remember your mother was such a comfort when we lost our dear Evelyn," she dabbed at her eyes quickly. Evelyn had been their daughter, born a year or so after Jonathan. She had been born too early, and the poor sickly creature had lived only a day. Mr Rawlings patted his wife's shoulder sympathetically.

"They were true disciples of God, and are surely now in his loving embrace, as is dear Evelyn," he assured his wife.

"That brings us all comfort Mr Rawlings, thank you," Fred replied.

"But how happy your parents would be to know that you are back together!" Mrs Rawlings rallied herself. "She would be so gladdened to know you are home Fred. She always prayed this day would come," she recalled with a fond smile.

"As did I Mrs Rawlings. I am so happy that both our prayers have been answered," Margaret replied softly.

Mrs Rawlings squeezed her hand fondly.

"We are so sorry that Jonathon could not be here. You have just missed him in fact, he and his family were here Saturday past"

"Perhaps best that you missed them. That rabble of children seems to multiply every time we see them!"

"They only grow bigger my dear, I am sure they are not multiplying. Poor Alice insists she is quite done with the business of childbirth!"

"How many children do they have?" Margaret enquired.

"Four, two boys and two girls. They are such little dears, but they do get quite excitable. Pray that your own offspring are of a more sensible disposition my dear," Mrs Rawlings smiled fondly. It seemed she did not know of Margaret's illness and she was in no hurry to correct her. It was a pleasant change to be treated as a normal person.

After some enquiries after Mr Bell's business affairs and the Hales' plans for their sojourn in Helstone, Mrs Cookson came to announce that the table had been set for lunch. They moved through to a spacious dining room bathed in sunlight from a large window that afforded a wonderful view of the garden.

Mrs Rawlings had always put on a splendid table, and the roast dinner they were served today was as good as Margaret ever remembered. Mrs Rawlings updated them all on Jonathan's work as a fine London lawyer, working (Margaret noted with slight amusement) for a firm that was a rival to Henry Lennox's.

After lunch, Mrs Rawlings invited Margaret to take a tour of the house, claiming to desire another opinion on some rooms she wanted to redecorate. Fred finally met his match when Mr Rawlings brought out his own chess set, and so they passed an hour or so in this manner. Finally, they were persuaded to take tea before they departed for their hotel, and they removed back to the parlour.

"Fred, I believe you are looking for property in the area?" Mr Rawlings asked abruptly, peering at Fred over the rim of his teacup. Fred raised an eyebrow at his godfather before replying.

"We are Sir, I was going to make some enquiries while we were in the area"

"I'll cut to the heart of the matter and save you the trouble. Jonathan's firm have just given him a very lofty promotion, which has brought him the income to purchase a small estate in the country. It is nothing grand, but he assures me there is room for us. Alice has recently lost both her parents, not unlike yourselves, and it is making Jonathan so fretful about us. He took us to see it about a month ago, and invited us to go and live with him. It would not be such a bad thing, to live out our twilight years surrounded by our grandchildren. Therefore, we propose to sell this place to you at a very modest price," Mr Rawlings explained.

Fred and Margaret exchanged some bemused looks, and then looked back to the Rawlings.

"Sir, that is a most generous offer you make us. May we have some time to think it over?"

"Indeed, indeed. I realise it is a lot to take in. Do come and see us again before you leave and we can talk it over in more detail. Go and enjoy your holiday!"

They were shown out of the house with many cheerful goodbyes and took the carriage back to their hotel.

"Well my dears, what did you think of the house? Mr Rawlings came to me with his plans to sell, and I thought to see what you made of the place," Mr Bell explained.

"It is a fine place to be sure. There is sure to be more than enough room for us all," Margaret replied thoughtfully.

"It is indeed a fine place. I just did not expect to find one so quickly," Fred added, still slightly bewildered.

The next day, the party made their way to the nearby beach. Margaret gave Dixon the day off to visit some friends that still resided in the area.

Mr Bell wandered off to inspect some new deliveries at the nearby bookshop, so Fred and Margaret were quite at their leisure to walk along the beach and talk the house over.

"I won't do anything without your consent my dear sister. What do you make of the place? Do you think it is a fine offer?" Fred asked her, as they rehashed the events of their visit to the Rawlings.

Margaret knew taking the house was the most sensible thing to do. Had they not already discussed the merits of returning to Helstone at great length? However, she had not expected the possibility to come about quite so quickly. Her heart still rebelled at the thought of moving further away from Milton and… Mr Thornton. She sought to crush this rebellion as pining after things that could not be would not help her recovery at all. Fred, however, had grown to know his sister and her mannerisms rather well, and could suss at once that something bothered her.

"Something does not agree with you Margaret. Please tell me"

"Oh it is the silliest thing. Prior to everything that has happened, I believed that Mr Thornton and I were… reaching some sort of understanding. I do not know what understanding, but there was something there. I suppose I am mourning what could have been, and moving away will be the final nail in the coffin"

Fred took her arm in his and petted her hand.

"I saw the way he looked at you, and the way he fretted about you when we found out you were sick. I suppose you could have done worse than to have him. I do not wish to constrain you, but nor do I wish to lose you again so soon my dear sister. But, if he is what you truly want, I will do what I can to help you," he promised her, squeezing her hand.

"Even if he wanted me, who is to say he would have me? I am sick, and probably will be for the rest of my life. I may not bear children, and there is still much scandal attached to me, because of the incident at Outwood. I would not wish to lose you again my dear, and so I think it would be the wisest thing to retire here, and help you with the large family Dolores is sure to give you," she smiled fondly at her brother.

"You know you will always have a place with me Migsy? Whatever you decide?"

"Thankyou. It is a great comfort to know that. Now, we should go and see the Rawlings soon. That house is quite splendid"

"I concur. However, could we indulge in a spot of sea paddling before we go? For old times' sake?"

But Margaret had already slipped out of his grasp and was deftly untying her boots.

A few days later, John sat in his office overseeing the mill. It was the day that the mill should have ceased operations, the money having truly run out. However, Mr Bell's loan had come just in time, and what would have been a day of sorrow and uncertainty was just like any other workday. The workers filed in, unaware of how close they had been to catastrophe, and set straight to their duties.

With the noise of the machines assuring him that all was still ticking along, John was reviewing some orders that had come in. There was a knock at the door, and his foreman walked in.

"Post has arrived Sir"

"Thankyou Fisher. Put it there"

"Indeed Sir"

When he was gone, John glanced at the pile, and the top envelope caught his attention. It bore the London postmark and he recognised Fred's handwriting. He pulled it open and unfurled the letter.

_Mr Thornton, _

_I hope your journey back to Milton went well and that operations at the mill go smoothly. Margaret and I are not long returned to Harley Street from our holiday, and we had a splendid time. Margaret did not have one fit or nightmare the whole time, which confirms in my mind that relocating here will be the best thing for her. We actually managed to secure a property here on our trip. Some friends of Bell's are selling up, and we managed to negotiate a tidy price. All that is left is to settle our affairs here, and make plans for transporting our belongings. I have already sent word to Dolores, who will be making her own arrangements in Spain._

_I am making plans for a quick move, so I am afraid we will not be able to receive you in London when you are next here. However, should you ever find yourself in Helstone (which I cannot recommend enough!) our door will always be open. _

_We will not forget your kindness to our family – the kindnesses you have shown to each of us, and I hope one day to be able to repay you in some form. I enclose the address to forward any business letters to, or should you wish to write and arrange a visit. Margaret would be most pleased to show off her home to anyone who is willing to listen!_

_With many warm wishes, _

_F. Hale_

John tucked the letter into his trouser pocket, and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. Now was not the time to go dashing off. The mill would still need all his attention to truly be brought back from the edge, and Fanny was advancing well into her pregnancy. Perhaps waiting until after she had delivered would give Fred and Margaret enough time to settle and establish their household.

But, as many knew, John Thornton was not a patient man.

A/N: I do hope that was a bit more cheerful for everyone! I've finally spent a bit of much needed time with my partner and now I feel like being a bit nicer to Mrs Gaskell's characters.

Please leave reviews and tell me what you think – detailed feedback is always appreciated!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11! I'll be honest, I didn't think CWBWA would make it this far. It started off as a vague concept in my head and has took root in my brain ever since. Reader responses keep us going. We're halfway and the only way to go is up!

Chapter 11

Hannah Thornton felt an overwhelming pity for the unknown woman John would eventually take as a wife. Watching him pace the room, pour brandies he then forgot to drink, pick up books and toss them back down, glance at letters he'd already read before discarding those too, made Hannah pinch the bridge of her nose with her fingers, pray to every deity she knew of for patience, and huff a great sigh which finally gained her scattered son's attention.

"That carpet is new; you're going to pace a hole in it at this rate"

"Good afternoon to you too mother"

"What is all this mithering about? Surely there's something sensible to be attending to, rather than all this hopeless flitting about?"

John frowned.

"I don't know mother. It is Sunday, so the mill is not open. Williams assures me all the necessary paperwork is done to be ready for tomorrow, and it is only noon. I have… nothing to do," he looked rather dazed as he said this, realising he had the most free time he'd had since he was nine years old. Here he was, twenty years later, completely lost as to what to do with himself when he did not have a set task or extensive list of things to do.

"Well, I also find myself with some leisure time, and was thinking to go for a walk, as the weather is finer than it has been of late. Why don't you accompany me? It will do you good to shed this excess energy"

John could never argue with his mother's sound logic, and went to fetch the necessary garments. He did feel slightly calmer as he felt the afternoon breeze wash over him. He and Hannah made their way up the hill to where Mr and Mrs Hale were buried, pausing at the graves as was their custom. Talk inevitably turned to their children.

"Have you heard from Frederick lately?"

"He and Miss Hale are now settled into their new home in Helstone. Mr Bell is back in Oxford settling his final affairs, and then back to Helston for a proper farewell before he departs for Argentina. Fred's wife has also finally sailed from Spain, and is expected any day now"

"And how is Miss Hale?"

"Well, by all accounts. Fred says she grows stronger by the day and that the worst of her behaviour is behind her. She even volunteers in a local pauper's school, teaching the girls sewing and embroidery for a couple of days a week"

"Any talk of one of these visits?"

"None at present. Fred wants to see his wife safely arrived and settled before he leaves Helstone again. She has left her home and all her family behind in another country, he will want to be there for her"

"It is a big change for any woman to leave home for her husband. I only moved some 5 miles when I married your father and still sorely missed home. Heaven only knows how she is feeling"

John pondered this. Was he really so selfish as to beg Margaret to leave what seemed like an idyllic, peaceful life to come back to this place, where she had only known desolation and despair? Any sensible woman would laugh in his face.

"John" the quiet call of his name made John turn to face his mother, who was watching him with an expression he had never seen on her face before.

"I know that you must still feel… _something_ for Miss Hale. It has been months, and you have never so much as glanced at another woman. While I can only counsel you that she may not be the wisest choice for a wife, God knows you'll need a sturdy sort of woman to bear children in an environment such as this, I know that I have blessed and also cursed you with my obstinance. There is no talking you down when you set your sights to something and I would not see you condemned to a loveless marriage for such earthly considerations. If she is the only one you will consider, we can find a way to make it work"

Hannah knew her son wasn't an overly expressive man, and that the tight squeeze he gave her hand conveyed all he needed to say. He offered his arm to her, and they continued on their walk.

A few days later, the scene at the Hale household was controlled chaos. Dolores' ship was due to dock in Portsmouth that morning, and Fred had left the night before to go and meet her. Margaret was left to oversee final preparations for her new sister in law's arrival, ensuring her clothes closet and drawers were clean and ready to receive her belongings. She plumped the cushions on an armchair Fred had purchased for Dolores, and brushed off some invisible speck of dust on the arm. Dolores now also had a very pretty wash bowl and jug set up for her, and Margaret had made her a welcome gift of some embroidered handkerchiefs, bearing her initials and some yellow Helstone roses. Dixon had gone to fetch everything that was needed for a dinner to welcome Fred and his wife home, and Margaret decided that the path to the house needed another sweep. She retrieved the broom and went outside, ensuring to leave the door open as to not lock herself outside.

She was absentmindedly brushing some leaves off the path when she paused, certain she had heard something. The sound was gone as quickly as it had come, so Margaret shrugged and carried on working. Perhaps she would prune the rose bushes as well, they were growing quite unruly.

There was the sound again. Margaret strained her ears; sure she was not imagining anything. It was a low sort of squeaking sound, and it seemed to be coming from a bush nearby. She crouched, and pushed some of the leaves apart, until –

"Oh my goodness!"

A tiny grey kitten, so tiny it was a miracle the poor creature was still alive, was laying under the bush, stretching as though it was reaching for food. The poor thing must have been starving. Margaret quickly pulled off her apron, and wrapped the creature up, beginning to rub some desperately needed warmth into its bones. A quick peek at its belly told Margaret it was a boy, and she held him to her chest.

"Oh my darling, how long have you been here? Where is your Mama?" Margaret had not seen any mothering cats in the area lately, so where he had come from was a mystery. She poked around the bush some more to check there were no more kittens. This mysterious little boy was quite alone.

"Come, let's get you into the house my dear. There is enough hot water left in the teapot, you sorely need a bath, and I shall warm some milk for you"

Quite what Dixon must have made of coming home to find the broom abandoned on the path and the door still ajar must have been alarming – Margaret had forgotten to close the door in her haste. She cautiously made her way into the house, and found Margaret seated by the fire, holding a towelled little bundle in her arms. There was also a saucer of… milk?, next to her with a teaspoon.

"What do you have there Miss Margaret?"

Margaret started slightly; she had been so engrossed in her task. She beckoned Dixon closer, pushing the towel back so that a tiny grey head popped out.

"I found this poor little fellow under a bush. I haven't the faintest idea how or when he got there, but I could not just leave him"

Dixon tutted as she looked him over.

"A runt, judging by his size. Don't get too attached is all, Miss. He is probably still very weak"

"I think he is a stubborn little fellow. He had just enough energy to call me to him, and became more lively when I washed him, and he is taking well to the milk. I think he could make Dolores and I a fine companion"

"If you insist Miss. I shall find you a box to make a bed for him"

"Do you want help with making dinner?"

"You just worry about your little charge there Miss"

Margaret pushed back the towel to study her new patient. He must be a few weeks old, as his eyes were fully open and were a startling deep black which stared at her intensely. Margaret was utterly flummoxed as to how he had survived quite so long out there on his own, but she was glad of the company.

"You study me so intensely, young man. It quite reminds me of an old acquaintance, who used to glower at me so!"

Her only response was a chirping squeak. She offered him another few teaspoons of milk, which he gobbled heartily. Now that he was warm and fed, he nestled against her chest, purring contentedly.

Dixon returned with a small box, for which she had also procured some old sewing rags to use as bedding. She set it a small distance from the fire, and Margaret pried her new friend off her chest.

"I would happily sit here with you all day my dear, but we have new friends to welcome!"

She placed him in his box, and after placating him with one of her old handkerchiefs dipped with a few drops of her perfume to carry her scent, he curled up and went to sleep. Margaret gathered up her gardening supplies, and went back outside to bring those rose bushes into order. She decided to pick a few of the best ones to place on a vase by Dolores' bedside. She also saw some marigolds and petunias that would make a very pretty arrangement, and carefully put her bundle together. She fetched a vase and water from the kitchen and went to place it in their bedroom. Her gardening completed, she resumed her helpless flitting about the house, only regaining a degree of sense when her new companion awoke and began to mew for her. He guzzled further teaspoons of milk so quickly that she placed him and the saucer on the floor to see if he were able to lap it up himself.

"Have you thought of a name for him Miss? You were right, he does seem the stubborn sort"

She looked up, Dixon watching them from where she was making the final preparations for dinner.

"I have a few I am considering, but I simply cannot decide!"

Dixon chuckled, and then glanced at the clock.

"Master Frederick is due back soon Miss. I suppose you'll want to change and wash. You've trekked in a fair bit of dirt from the garden"

Margaret glanced down and found Dixon's assessment accurate. There were streaks of soil on her skirt and a fair bit under her fingernails.

"You watch him Miss Margaret, I'll go prepare a washbowl and lay out a fresh dress. I suppose you'll want the lavender gown, with the lace collar?"

"That would be marvellous Dixon"

Once Dixon had left the room, Margaret leaned back and watched her new friend. Having finished his milk, he was tottering about on legs that still seemed slightly shaky. He began chasing a little dot of light, a glimmer of retreating sunshine that was glinting off Margaret's bracelet. She sussed his game and began twisting her wrist, dancing the light ever so slightly of his reach. He squawked indignantly and made a great leaping attempt to catch it, only to slip and land splayed on his belly. Margaret chuckled and scooped him back up, where he nestled happily back into her chest.

"You shall need a name my dear boy. I cannot keep simply calling you 'boy' or 'cat'. But what to name you?"

The cat chirped as he looked up at her, and Margaret studied him intently, trying to find a fitting name.

"You are the most curious shade of grey I've ever seen, almost like smoke. Smoky?"

Margaret swore she saw the cat almost shake his head.

"You do not agree? Very well, what else is there about you?"

She looked at him again.

"You are grey like the smoke, and stubborn, determined as you were to cling to life all this time. You also have no problem making yourself heard, shouting out to me as loud as you could. You like your independence, wanting to eat from the saucer yourself, but you are affectionate in your own way. You have the most brilliant dark eyes I've ever seen, although they do remind me of… oh!" Margaret trailed off with a gasp as she thought of the perfect name, and she smiled and brought the cat up to her face to look him full in the eye.

"Hello, Milton"

She was rewarded with him sticking his pale pink tongue out to lick her cheek.

"Is that a kiss? You approve of the name?" she asked with a giggle.

Dixon came back to announce that her things were ready for a wash and a change, and she placed Milton back on the floor to explore his new surroundings.

While Dixon fixed the ties on her dress, Margaret bent over the wash bowl and used a small scrubbing brush to attack the dirt on her hands and nails. She also washed her face, and Dixon brushed and re-fixed her hair, as it was looking a bit unkempt from a day of rushing about the house.

They were both making sure the table was set for dinner when the unmistakeable clatter of horses and a carriage pulled up outside. Dixon and Margaret looked up at each other, and Margaret was filled at once with great excitement and terrible nerves. She smoothed down her skirts and hurried to the door.

Outside, Fred was hopping down from the carriage. He looked up and gave Margaret a cheery wave before turning back to the door and holding out his hand to help his wife down.

Dolores Hale was as tall as her husband, with dark hair currently tucked under a hat. Her dark eyes were drinking in what she could make of her surroundings in the diminishing light. Margaret clasped her hands in front of her, as Dixon came hurrying to stand next to her. The couple made their way up the path as the coachmen began unloading the cases Dolores had brought, Fred's light overnight bag tucked under his arm. They moved into the light spilling from the door, and Margaret was relieved to see that Dolores was smiling broadly. Fred released his wife's arm to embrace his sister.

"Ah it's good to be home. You've kept well sister?"

"Very well brother, we have managed to keep well occupied. Now come, you have introductions to perform"

"Very well, very well. Margaret, may I present you to my wife, Dolores. My darling, this is my sister, Margaret"

Margaret bobbed a small curtsy.

"I am so pleased to welcome you to your new home. I hope the journey was pleasant for you?"

Dolores reached out and embraced Margaret, kissing her cheeks.

"I am so pleased to finally meet my sister and see my new home. It is all so different and wonderful. I am sure I shall be very happy here and we shall be great friends," her voice was soft and her accent was strong. Dixon shuffled on the spot a little, waiting to be introduced.

"Oh, I am so sorry! Dolores, this is Dixon, our ladies' maid," Margaret added, watching as Dixon also bobbed a curtsy.

"Welcome to your new home, Mistress," Dixon greeted her politely. Since Dolores was the new Mrs Hale, it was natural that she would now be the official mistress of the house. However, she let out a gentle little laugh.

"Please, I do not wish to be anyone's mistress. I am not used to giving commands and I am sure you don't need me to tell you what to do. I simply wish to be Dolores," she responded gently, before shivering in a sudden breeze.

"My goodness, why are we all still standing around? Everyone come in!" Margaret began ushering her new little family into the house, "You may sit a while by the fire if you wish Dolores, or do you wish to wash and change? Fred, you, and the coachman bring Dolores' things inside. Dixon, see that there is water boiled for a pot of tea and Dolores' wash bowl"

"You see, sister? This house already has a most efficient mistress," Dolores murmured kindly to her. Margaret looped her arm through hers and took her through to the room she would share with Fred, showing her where she could place her things and the flowers and handkerchiefs she had prepared as a gift. Dolores gushed her thanks and declared them all "bonito!"

Fred and Dixon arrived with Dolores' things and a bowl of wash water. Margaret then left her new sister to Dixon's care to see her changed and refreshed and followed her brother downstairs.

"What do you make of her then Migs?"

"She is so lovely and kind, dear brother. I am excited to get to know her further"

"Come, sit with me by the fire. I need to stretch my legs after that cramped carriage, and I'm eager to know how you have passed the last couple of days"

The answer to that question crawled out from under Fred's seat and attempted to climb up his leg not two minutes after he had sat down. Fred yelped at the sudden sensation and stared curiously at this other new house guest.

"Where did this little fellow come from?"

"I was gardening earlier today and I found him under a bush. I have no idea how long he's been out there or even how he's pulled through so quickly, he's recovered remarkably in just a few hours"

"May have been abandoned then," Fred mused, frowning "Have you given your new friend a name?"

"Milton," Margaret replied sheepishly, "For the smoky grey of his fur"

Fred paused, and then chuckled heartily.

"You hold that place tighter in your heart than you know Migsy. He is a curious little fellow isn't he? He'll make you a good companion"

"Of course. It is natural that you will want to spend more time with your wife. You must be so happy that she is finally here"

"I keep having to pinch myself to know that I am not dreaming. I am sad that she has left the only life she has known to be with me. I will just have to spend my life proving that her sacrifice was worth it"

"I am sure she already thinks it is"

"I meant what I said my dear sister. You will always have a place here, no matter what happens"

Margaret merely reached out and squeezed her brother's wrist, just as Dolores came back into the room. She had changed out of her travelling clothes, into a light cotton dress in a soft shade of yellow that complimented her long dark hair, which had been released from its pins and now tumbled down her back in a neat braid. She also had a cream shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Dixon left to ensure dinner was ready to serve, and Dolores seated herself in a chair next to Fred. Milton leapt into Margaret's lap and gazed at Dolores curiously.

"Oh, your cat is beautiful! What is his name?"

"Milton. Did you have any pets?"

"No, but there were always stray dogs running about that my brothers and I would sneak food to when _madre _wasn't looking"

"How many brothers do you have?"

"4. I was the second eldest. There was Miguel, Fabian, Ruben, and Alejandro. I think my parents are just glad to have some of us out of the house at last. Miguel also married and left not long before I did, so the house must feel so much quieter!"

"5 children! Gracious, there must have been so much noise!"

"Si! Poor madre, I think she was about to go mad with despair of us! I would have so liked to have a sister to share my dolls and look at pretty dresses with. The boys only wanted to look at my dresses when they were trying to get mud on them!"

"Fred did once get my dress spectacularly muddy, but Mother gave him such a clip round the ear for giving the maids extra cleaning work that he never touched them again!"

"¡Vergonzosa! Was he so terrible a brother all the time?" Dolores asked with a gasp, shooting a stern look at her husband.

"Oh no, he is a wonderful brother, he could not be more attentive to me"

"He is not such a bad husband either," Dolores replied with a wry tone, now giving her husband an affectionate smile.

"I am pleased to be of satisfaction to you both," Fred replied with a jovial smile. It warmed his heart to see the two most important women in his life getting along. This pleasing little tableau was interrupted by Dixon announcing that dinner was ready. Together the three of them filed through to the dining room, and shared more fond childhood memories. Not long after dinner was cleared away and Margaret had served final cups of tea, Fred and Dolores stood and stretched, announcing the desire for an early night after such a taxing journey. Margaret dutifully bade them a goodnight, offering each a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

Margaret herself gathered her discarded shawl, drawing it around herself as she went to sit back by the kitchen fire. Milton perked up at the sight of her and she obligingly scooped him up, setting him upon her lap as she sat by the dying embers of the fire. For the first time in months, she felt a peace she had not known since the day she had left Helstone with her parents. She still mourned their loss, but she knew they would be comforted to know she was with Fred again, and would wish her to look to her future.

She was still not quite sure what her future held, but she knew that with her new family's help, they would all be able to feel whole again.

A:N – Wasn't that lovely! A nice cheerful chapter after a lot of doom and gloom, I promised it would get better!

Feedback always appreciated.

Sid xx


	12. Chapter 12

See end of chapter for notes

Chapter 12

Dolores had arrived in England in the middle of summer and had thrown herself into her new life. She spent her days with her new sister, joining her as a volunteer at the local school. One afternoon, the children had asked for a song, and Dolores had shown herself to have the most beautiful voice that Margaret had ever heard. She helped prepare meals and brought some of her favourite recipes over from Spain, to the delight of her new family who were enthralled by all the new flavours and smells. While she still sometimes pined for her native country and the family she had left behind, she was very well pleased with the new life she was building.

But now it was the middle of November, and Christmas was fast upon them. While Dolores and Margaret whiled away the days sewing and knitting all manner of clothes for the poor boxes, Fred spent his time overseeing some of Mr Bell's local properties, and co-ordinating teams to help repair houses and other buildings that had been damaged in a recent spate of storms. Milton also grew from strength to strength, and Margaret barely recognised him as the tiny sickly creature she had found all those months ago. He followed his new mother around like a shadow, chasing bits of string that she trailed around for him and happily gobbling up whatever scraps Dixon threw to him, as she also seemed very taken with him. When all these pursuits tired him out, he curled up to sleep either on Margaret's feet or on her lap, providing an excellent source of warmth as the winter chill began to set in. Being so far south, she knew the winter would be a lot milder than those in Milton, but there were still some very cold mornings.

Christmas preparations in Milton were also coming in a flurry of activity. Though work at the mill was lessened due to seasonal demand, John was still swamped in work making sure his household was prepared for Christmas and the dinner they would be hosting, as well as ensuring his workers were able to have something of a celebration. His mother was inclined to disagree with him, as she was still wary of the workers after the business with the strikes and the Irish workers. But John, who was rumoured to have a heart under his cold and stern exterior, believed that Christmas was the time to put the disagreements of the past year behind them and look to a prosperous new future. _Life was too short to be spent in nursing animosity_, he had once heard it said, and he was eager to put this year behind him. A celebration of sorts could go a good way to healing the breach between master and worker.

He was walking back toward the mill one morning, having run an errand to the post office, when a shout made him turn.

"Master, master!"

He recognised the voice and indeed, Higgins was standing on the other side of the street, waving him down. John walked over.

"Higgins, what can I do for you?"

The two men had developed an odd sense of camaraderie since he had agreed to employ Higgins, at Margaret's behest. A neutral party may even have called them friends. Higgins chuckled at his ever-forthright manner.

"It's Miss Margaret really. Since sh' were so generous as t' send the children those clothes – really, they 'ave been a godsend – the children have been beggin' me t' pu' money aside t' get some gifts for 'er. Well 'ere I am, no coin left t' send them nor any idea where sh' lives," Higgins realised the flaws in his plans as he stared down at the little bundle.

"Give them to me, I'll see them delivered," John replied, "What did you decide on?"

"Nothin' grand or th' like. The girls put some by for wool for a shawl. I tell 'em sh' won't need such a thing, being all way down south. Missus Jones up th' street 'elped 'em knit, coz Lord knows I'm no 'elp. The boys found some sticks and made this for 'er. Though' t'would be a way t' think of 'er father sometimes, or t' put on 'er tree. Sh' migh' 'ave one, sh' always were a righ' fine lady"

It was a small cross, made with two sticks woven together with a good quantity of string. One of them had nailed a hole through the top of it and stuck in a small loop of ribbon, to make it into a hanging ornament. They had even, albeit clumsily, managed to etch her initials _MH_ into the middle. It was no expert craftsmanship but John knew that Margaret, with her kind heart and great fondness for the children, would treasure it as though it had come straight from the gold mines of the Americas.

He took the package from Higgins, promised to have it sent as soon as possible, and carried on back to the mill. However, he thought to check his pocket watch, and saw that it was only 9 o clock in the morning.

His feet were soon carrying him to the train station.

Sitting on the train, an entirely too sensible voice started nagging that he was about to arrive completely unannounced, with no necessities packed should he need to stay, and no accommodation arranged should he not be able to. All on the whim of a couple of tawdry little gifts. He pushed those thoughts out of his head and focussed on more pleasant thoughts. He would finally see the place that made Margaret the free spirit that she was. The fields she played in, the views she would have seen from her little bedroom. He would be able to see her again, hear her voice and hopefully her laughter. Would it intensify his want for her, or finally settle in his mind that it would be kinder to leave her alone?

By 12 o clock, he was stepping off the carriage and walking through the idyllic village that Fred oft described in his letters. He had somehow expected the place to still be quite warm, and so was surprised to be greeted by a neat layer of frost, and a chill that made him glad he had not discarded his coat. He consulted the piece of paper he kept by with their address on it and flagged a passer-by for directions. His strong Darkshire accent raised an eyebrow, but he was eventually pointed in the right direction. He found the correct house, and simply stood, staring down the path to the door. The bold impulse that had carried him this far now completely abandoned him. John Thornton, a man who had stood toe to toe with boys twice his size as a child, had brawled with men in the mill and who commanded a great presence in his town, was afraid to call on a lady. He paced nervously, occasionally throwing glances back at the house, summoning the wits to knock on and coherently explain his presence.

However, an angry shriek soon told him that he may have been standing there unexplained a little too long.

"Hey!"

John whirled at the sound but did not a glimpse at his accoster before he received a face full of what felt like a broom.

"Hey – what?!"

"Quién eres tú?! Hijo de la gran puta como es que se atreve venir aca molestarnos en nuestro hogar que vayas al diablo aca no hay nada pa' robar ven... tomate eso!"

This angry speech was punctuated with more blows to the head and torso. John, who neither spoke Spanish nor could get a good look at his attacker, could do nothing but wrap his arms around his head to attempt to protect himself.

"Vete a casa ahora. ¿Quieres que llame al agente?" EH, EH?!"

Meanwhile, Fred and Margaret were idling about inside. Margaret was darning a pair of thick winter stockings that Milton had ripped with his claws. Fred was pursuing that days' newspaper. Dolores had gone outside some time ago to sweep leaves around the house, yet now they both looked up as the sounds of her shouting angrily drifted back to the house. They both exchanged worried glances before bolting from their chairs to go and investigate. Fred beat Margaret to the door, and the sight that greeted him was equal parts bewildering and hilarious.

Dolores, who had always been fearsome to behold when she was enraged, was brandishing a broom, and cursing in fluent Spanish at none other than… John Thornton, who was now valiantly attempting to defend himself.

"I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU" he finally bellowed out of frustration. Dolores responded by waving the broom menacingly at him, but at least reverting to English.

"There is nothing to steal here! You go, go now! Or I will call constable!"

"I'm no thief!"

"What is in the package, eh?! Knife, to kill us all – or clippers to cut bolts?" Dolores hefted the broom up as if to rain more blows down on him, and Fred knew it was time to intervene.

"Dolores! Lower the broom!"

Both whirled at the sound of his voice, John lighting up in relief and Dolores in surprise. Margaret had now arrived to take the scene in and stared on in absolute bewilderment.

"I saw him here while I was sweeping leaves. He has been lurking like a vagrant, staring at the house!"

"Dolores, this is Mr Thornton, my friend and business associate. Who I am sure had a perfectly valid reason to be waiting outside? Mr Thornton, I believe you are acquainted with my wife, Dolores"

"Pleased to meet you," John muttered wryly to Dolores, who continued to glare at him suspiciously.

"Why don't we all come inside? It looks to rain soon," Fred suddenly interjected, peering at the sky. John gestured for Dolores to go ahead of him, but she still had not lost that intensely suspicious stare and seemed to prefer that he stay where she could see him, so he shrugged and carried on up the path.

Fred made a jovial show of shaking his hand and placing an arm around his shoulders to guide him into the house. He turned to chance a glance at Margaret, who looked quite surprised to see him. He merely hoped it was a pleasant surprise to her.

"Just curious. Why _were_ you lurking outside?" Fred muttered to him once they were out of earshot of women. John mumbled some excuse about not being sure if he had the right address, which earned him a raised eyebrow.

John accidentally then kicked a ball of wool that had been left trailing on the floor and started when a small grey kitten darted out from under a nearby sideboard to chase it. Fred chuckled.

"Margaret's new little pet. Just don't be too offended when you find out what she named the beast"

They were currently in the entryway, which seemed small but wallpapered with a cheery floral pattern that made it seem larger. Fred guided the small party into the parlour, which was painted a light blue colour and well furnished with plush sofas and armchairs. Dolores went to fetch Dixon for some tea (and no doubt to fill her in on the gossip) while John and the remaining Hales seated themselves down.

"So, what does bring you to Helstone Mr Thornton?" Fred asked again.

"I brought some festive gifts," John finally mustered up the nerve to admit, "The Boucher children made some gifts for Miss Hale, and I thought these would do well for you and your wife"

Not wanting to seem rude by not arriving with a gift for Fred and Dolores, John had paused in London to find some passable offerings. For Fred, a large bottle of port he himself favoured, and some lengths of ribbon and lace for Dolores, to perhaps trim bonnets or dresses. He had also found a delicate little brooch for Margaret, to adorn the shawl the Boucher children had given her. It was silver, worked into the shape of a little rose.

"That sounds splendid, although I dare say you needn't have gone to the trouble. Shall we have a look Margaret?"

"I daresay we will Fred, but I must ask Mr Thornton, are you alright? Your temple looks rather red where Dolores struck you" Margaret had pulled herself together from the shock of John suddenly appearing on their doorstep and was determined to be a polite hostess.

"Nothing I did not deserve, lurking about as I was. I will be fine Miss Hale," John reassured her. Then, the little grey cat re appeared, leaping onto Margaret's lap, and peering at their new visitor curiously.

"Ah, I spied this little fellow earlier! Who might this be?" John asked her.

"Ah, this is err… Milton, Mr Thornton," Margaret replied sheepishly.

"Milton?"

"The colour of his fur. It reminded me of the smoke I would often see around Milton…" Margaret trailed off into silence, afraid she had given great offence. John merely gazed at the cat thoughtfully, who returned this look without blinking. It was touching that through all the pain and struggle, she still wished to have something around her that reminded of the place he called home, and it gave him no small amount of hope.

"Well, the colour does look much more becoming on him, and he probably smells a good deal better than the smoke that hangs around town," John replied with a small smile. Margaret almost sagged with relief that he was not cross with her.

"Well he does often smell like smoke from the fireplace, all the time he spends asleep in front of it!"

John then smiled broadly at that jest, and Margaret found it quite disarming.

Dolores, with Dixon hot on her heels, then bustled back in with a tray of tea and biscuits, setting it down on a little table by John. Margaret bade her to sit and rose to serve tea to everyone. Dolores turned to John.

"I apologise for striking you Mr Thornton. I can be a little too passionate in my anger. I hope I have not seriously harmed you," she told him.

"Nothing but my pride was harmed, do not worry yourself Mrs Hale," he immediately felt bad when both Fred and Margaret flinched at the use of this address. Dolores petted her husband's arm.

"No no, please call me Dolores. We do not sit on much formality here," she replied.

"Ah, my apologies. Thankyou Dolores"

Fred smiled reassuringly at his sister, and then clapped his hands jovially, wishing to lift the mood.

"I do not wish to sound an impertinent child John, but I believe you mentioned gifts?" he asked with an impish grin. Margaret rolled her eyes and Dolores swatted at his chest.

"Master Fred, you have not changed since you were a boy. Always trying to find your gifts and begging to open them early," Dixon reprimanded him. So, she was the same as ever she was.

John chuckled.

"They are here. These are yours Miss Hale, from the Boucher children. And these are for you, Fred, Dolores" he handed each package out, and was right in his assessment that Margaret was enraptured with her small offerings. She pulled out her pale blue shawl that the children had helped to make, and instantly switched it with the cream one she was currently wearing. John thought it complimented the blue of her eyes perfectly. She also became a little misty-eyed glancing at the little cross the boys made her and went to place it in a prominent position on their little mantlepiece. She tucked it into a little vase of flowers so that it was in no danger of falling off and becoming Milton's new chew toy.

"Ah, now doesn't this remind me of my navy days," Fred joked as he stared at the large bottle of port.

"Mind you do not have too much of that, husband. You snore something terrible when you have had too much drink," Dolores reminded him sternly, "Oh Mr. Thornton, these are wonderful!" she exclaimed as she looked over her lace and ribbons "I have been wanting to redecorate my church bonnet, but the fabric shop is so far away from here. I am only sorry we have nothing to give you!"

Just then, Margaret stood up sheepishly, and went to retrieve a few small packages from her sewing box.

"They are nothing grand, Mr Thornton. Your sister mentioned in her last visit that she and your mother were going to begin work on a quilt for the babe, and I knitted a few squares for them to add. And these… these are for you," she handed him a small bundle, which he unwrapped to find a set of three new cravats. One in his everyday black, one in handsome shade of deep blue and one in a shade of grey that was not too dissimilar from the colour of Milton's fur. The look on Fred's face suggested he had not known about this, but he grinned at his sister, nonetheless.

"Where would we be without you Migs? Always on hand to save the day"

Fred and Dolores went to put their gifts away, while Dixon went away grumbling that she may not have cooked enough to set an extra place for luncheon. This gave John and Margaret an unexpected moment of time alone.

"I am glad to see you looking much recovered, Miss Hale," John ventured. While she still seemed to err on the thin side, she did not look as gaunt as she did at their meeting in Harley Street. The shadows under her eyes were also much less pronounced, showing that she had finally been getting some uninterrupted sleep. While she still seemed tired and wan, John thought she was a picture of loveliness.

"I am glad to feel recovered Mr Thornton. It is a relief to not need anymore dresses taking in," Margaret replied with a smile.

"I am sure it is. Fanny is starting to need hers letting out to accommodate the babe and she is finding it most frustrating," John replied wryly, choosing to omit how his sister had wailed with the fear of forever losing her trim figure.

"I am sure she shall feel it was all worth it, when she is holding her child," Margaret replied thoughtfully.

Just then, Fred and Dolores returned.

"Well, the threat of rain seems to have passed over us. What say we take a walk through the village? Dixon will appreciate us being out from underfoot while she prepares the table for luncheon, and we really must show you the beauty of Helstone, John"

All declared this to be an agreeable plan and went to fetch coats and bonnets and scarves and hats. John offered Margaret his arm and had to fight off a buffoonish grin when she took it, thrilling at this smallest touch of her hand.

They walked along the road, Fred pointing out various landmarks, such as their father's church and his and Margaret's favourite spots to play as children, and John soaked it all in. For him, who had only ever known noise and bustle and smoke and grime, the silence and cleanliness were astonishing. Again, he asked himself, was he really going to try and beg Margaret to come away from all this, back to the filth and grime and poverty of Milton? He could take a lot of pride in his home, but one could not deny that it could be a grim place to grow up. Especially when compared to a place such as this.

The party was turning into the churchyard to go and have a look inside when Dolores suddenly whimpered and almost crumpled to the floor. Fred started in alarm and gathered her into his arms, while Margaret gasped. John clasped her hands to reassure her.

"Dolores, _mi querida_, what is the matter pet?"

She stirred and looked up at him.

"Forgive me Fred, I just suddenly went very dizzy. I'm sure I will be fine," she attempted to get up, but Fred held her fast.

"You seem very pale my darling. Come, let me escort you back to the house to rest," he replied in an unusually authoritative tone. He so very rarely attempted to command his wife that she did not have the heart, nor at this time the energy, to argue.

"Migsy, you will be alright to show John around for a while? I will get Dolores home and see about calling a doctor," Fred asked his sister.

"Of course. Is there anything we can do to help?" Margaret asked, her voice and face full of concern. It was Dolores who answered her.

"Do not worry sister, I will be quite alright, I just need rest. Keep our guest entertained. Forgive me Mr Thornton, I shall be recovered in no time"

"I hope you will recover well Dolores," John answered. He rushed to hold the gate for Fred as he bore Dolores back through it.

He made his way back to Margaret, who was wringing her hands.

"Oh, I hope she shall be alright. I hope she isn't sickening"

John had his suspicions but did not voice them in case he was wrong. He merely re offered his arm to Margaret, and they carried on up the path to the church.

"Forgive me, Mr Thornton, but may I go and say a quick prayer for Dolores? It will make me feel so much better," Margaret asked John.

"Of course, Miss Hale. Anything to bring you comfort from distress," he replied hastily. She turned pink at his last words, but merely walked away to kneel in one of the pews and drop her head over her clasped hands. John again cursed his loose tongue. He stood by and watched Margaret as she prayed, keeping an odd sort of vigil over her.

Some moments later she stood, crossed herself, and made her way back over to him.

"Thankyou. I remember saying my prayers in here with Fred when we were children, almost like it was yesterday," she smiled fondly as she looked about.

"I can almost vividly imagine your father giving sermons at that altar. This is a lovely church," John replied.

"It is indeed a beautiful church. Mama always talked so fondly of seeing me married in this church," she stared sadly at the floor, another dream she would never see realised.

"You still could be married here. Your mother would be with you, even if not in person," John replied softly. She lifted her head to look at him.

"I do not think so Mr Thornton, though you are truly kind to say so. It is unlikely I shall ever marry"

"Why do you think that?"

"I have been so unwell. No man wants a wife who is afraid of her own shadow. A wife who can barely take care of herself, let alone the children she must bear him. Who would take such a woman?"

Hang propriety, the moment for courage was here.

"I would"

Margaret could only stare at him agape.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please hear me out. I once told you that any passion I had for you was over, but I was the worst kind of liar. I have thought of nothing but you ever since you left for London. I yearned to be your comfort when your mother and father passed. When I learned the truth of Fred, I wanted to follow him back to London and beg your forgiveness. Then we found out you were as ill as you were," John drew a deep breath, and continued. Margaret had not yet begged him to stop, or struck him, so he took it as encouragement "It gives me such joy to see you recovering as well as you are. Anything that makes you happy would bring me happiness. I would do anything to take care of you. A different house, somewhere where the air is clean. I'd take less hours at the mill and spend the days with you. I do not give a fig about children. I only care that I can be your husband. I know that may make me the worst sort of man, to beg you come away from this little patch of heaven, but I cannot conceal my feelings any longer. Merely give me hope, Miss Hale, and I will do whatever I can to make you comfortable and happy"

Margaret then began to weep quietly, and panic lined the pit of his stomach.

"My god. Forgive me Miss Hale. Forgive me," he murmured, his own voice beginning to tremble. She shook her head, which worried him further, until she looked up and he saw that she was smiling radiantly through her tears.

"You still have love for me?" She asked with a trembling voice, and a powerful wave of relief almost sent John crumbling to the floor.

"I never stopped loving you," he replied firmly. She choked on a fresh wave of tears.

"It was the worst feeling, to think you despised me. I so longed to tell you about Fred, but could not risk his safety or your position as magistrate"

"It does not matter anymore. Fred is a free man, it all worked out in the end"

She sniffled, and finally calmed.

"Please understand, Mr Thornton, I am not refusing you. But I do not feel ready to accept. Fred has been so good and caring to me. I do not feel ready to leave him. I know you say you do not care about children, but you will still need heirs. It is something you must still consider. It will be a large move to leave Helstone again. I do not think I could yet bear to be confined to summer visits and Christmas letters. I am not saying no, Mr Thornton, I am asking for time," she replied in a quavering voice.

"I cannot ask for fairer than that Miss Hale, and I thank you. If your brother is agreeable, may I write to you?"

"I am sure he will be agreeable Mr Thornton. Come, shall we finish this tour?"

"Please, I am eager to see more of your home Miss Hale"

"You may think it impertinent, but you may call me Margaret if you wish"

"Only if you will call me John"

"Very well. This way… John"

She took his arm again, and they made their way out of the church. She showed him the churchyard where she and Fred played as children, and the schoolroom where she volunteered with the girls. She however, forgot to tell John about the deceptively large puddles that developed on the country lanes, and so she ended up delivering a rather soggy mill master back to the house.

She was just about to usher him through to the kitchen, to the armchair by the fire, when Fred, who heard them come in, bounded down the stairs.

"Ah, there you both – gracious, Mr Thornton, are you alright?"

"I will be alright. I think I will sit by the fire a while"

"Yes, yes of course"

Margaret took him through to the kitchen and took his coat and hat to hang up. He had only fallen in up to his thighs, so he would be alright.

She went to re join Fred, who she now noticed was hopping from one foot to the other in a sort of nervous excitement.

"Is everything alright Fred? How is Dolores?"

"Huh? Oh yes, she is fine, fine. The doctor's been, she just needs to rest"

"Whatever is the matter?"

"Nothing serious my dear. She is… She is… with child," Fred finally admitted quietly, with a nervous smile. Margaret beamed and embraced her brother tightly.

"That is wonderful news Fred! Can I see her?"

"She will be down for dinner shortly; you can talk to her then. Let her rest a while longer my dear. Come, tell me what happened to Thornton"

"Of course, she will need plenty of rest. Oh, it is the silliest thing, I forgot to tell him about the enormous puddles that gather down Bale Lane"

"Oh, they are devious! I'll go fetch him a fresh pair of socks to use"

Margaret chuckled and went to sit by John in the kitchen. She chuckled to see that Milton had leapt into his lap and was joining in the efforts to dry him by stretching full out across his knees.

"He is a most wonderful lap warmer; I'll give him that," John joked, looking up at her.

"He is. Fred will be down shortly, he is fetching you some clean socks"

"I shall thank him for them. How is Dolores?"

"She is fine. She is with child, as a matter of fact. I shall be an Aunt"

"I offer congratulations to you all"

Fred bounded back down the stairs, and handed John the promised socks, before darting back upstairs to escort his wife down to dinner. Her mild protests were heard down the stairs (_I am still capable of stairs Fred_!)

John chuckled and toed off his shoes to change the socks. Dixon came bustling in to bring everyone to the table, and spied John's muddy shoes.

"Begging your pardon Mr Thornton, but you'll be kindly leaving your shoes by the fire. The carpets in the dining room have just been cleaned, and I shan't have more mud trekked over them"

Fred chuckled.

"I have some slippers you can borrow John, if you would take the ladies through to lunch?"

John proffered each arm to the ladies and took them through to the table.

Fred returned to the table with the slippers which were gratefully accepted and talk over the table was of John's impressions of Helstone and Fred and Dolores' plans for their child.

After an excellent repast, John checked his pocket watch, and saw he really ought to move quick to catch a train back to Milton. On his way to fetch his coat, he spied a sheet of blank writing paper on the sideboard and tore a segment off. Writing a quick missive, he tucked it inside the brooch box. Fred went down the path to hail him a cab, and Margaret waved him off at the door. He handed her the box when no one was looking, Dolores having gone back inside to seek out a cup of tea.

"I shall write to you soon," he murmured fervently, taking her fingers and pressing a chaste kiss to them.

"I will look forward to it. Thank you for agreeing to what I asked"

"Surely you know I would do anything for you?"

Margaret nodded, and clasped the hand he had kissed to her chest. A whinny of horses told them his cab was here, and he gave her one final bow and stole away. He shook Fred's hand and deposited himself in the coach.

Margaret and Fred stood together, waving him off.

"I say Migsy, I think a return visit will be in order after Christmas, what say you?"

"That would be most agreeable"

Sequestered in her room later, Margaret had a chance to open the box John had given her. She caught the little piece of paper and beamed at the pretty brooch he had given her. She turned her attention back to the paper and looked at the little note he had scribbled.

_Thank you. For hope. JT_

A/N: I think that was my longest chapter yet! I'm so glad we can get onto the more cheerful stuff. Let me know what you think!

Big thanks to ElizabethHades for all the help with this chapter, particularly with the Yorkshire and Spanish dialogue. And just for listening to all my ramblings.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The evening of Christmas Day found Margaret sitting in her favourite armchair by the parlour fire, a cup of sweet tea on the arm rest and Milton stretched across her lap. She was supposedly reading a new book Fred and Dolores had gifted her, the latest popular novel, but she was too full and sleepy after an excellent Christmas luncheon to focus on the words. Fred and Dolores had already withdrawn for the night. Poor Dolores was becoming increasingly beset with nausea and fatigue as the babe inside her grew and grew, and so she oft retired much earlier than the rest of the house these days.

Fred had also retired, not wanting to leave his wife alone, and so after many cheerful assurances that she would be perfectly content by herself, they had departed. Milton made good company sprawled across her lap, and so she was happy to sit by the fire and ponder her many thoughts. She marvelled over what an improvement this Christmas had been over the previous year. Last Christmas had been a dark one, prisoner both inside Harley Street and inside her mind. Visions of those she had lost plagued her day by day while dreams of what she could have had taunted her at night. Her fists balled up on the arms of the chair and she screwed her eyes shut as she became lost in this wave of grim recollections. Milton stirred awake at the involuntary whimper she let out, and instinctively stretched to butt his head against her cheek. The warm softness of his fur and the soothing sound of his purr gently pulled her back to the present. No use dwelling on where she had been, she must keep moving forward. She determined to focus on the merry festivities she had partaken of this year. She, Fred and Dolores had exchanged gifts that morning, around the small tree they had eventually decided upon. Margaret was privately relieved they had not indulged the tradition of live candles, as Milton had constantly conspired to pull the whole thing down. They had gone to church and listened to carollers in the street, enjoying cups of mulled wine with their neighbours. Dixon had excelled herself with the lunch she had put on for them. Their joint of beef was as good as any turkey the Queen may have been enjoying.

The past few weeks had also brought her the first of her new correspondence with Mr Thor… John. She thrilled as she rolled his name over and over her tongue. It was such a simple name for someone who was anything but. She was sure there was a lot to learn about him, and that the letters they shared would barely scratch the surface. But she looked forward to the opportunity to learn, nonetheless.

She walked over to a large desk the three of them shared, used chiefly for letter writing. They each had a box where they stored their correspondence and stocks of writing materials. She opened hers and pulled out the letter he had sent, returning to her armchair to peruse the contents one more time.

_Dearest Margaret, _

_I hope this letter finds you well and merrily anticipating the festive season. I have relayed your thanks to Higgins and the Boucher children and they again relay their very best wishes to you this festive season. Though there is indeed less work at the mill – there is hardly a clamour for cotton during one of the coldest winters we've had for a while – I still find there is much to be done for Christmas. Despite not ordering one for myself, I found myself spending a whole afternoon helping Watson haul a Christmas tree through their house. (_Margaret almost chuckled as she could vividly imagine the roll of his eyes and sardonic tone that would have accompanied this sentence) _My scattered sister forgot that the day she had arranged for the tree to be delivered was the day she had given the footmen off. The men that dropped it off weren't much help, as they were bound to the Latimer's with an order of two trees. However, my sister grows wearier by the day as the babe continues to grow, so perhaps we should not be too harsh. She is due not long after New Year, so now we are playing quite the waiting game. She thanks you for the additions to her blanket, they compliment the colours of the others wonderfully. _

_My mother is well and sends her good wishes to you and your family._

_Although you will not accept it, I do apologise for arriving as impulsively as I did, and for giving Dolores quite the fright. Higgins gave me your gifts, and suddenly there was no other thought than that I had to see you. Until the moment I saw you, it felt like a moment of madness. Looking back on it now, I think it was a fortuitous moment of fate. Being able to be truthful about my feelings to you, and know that you return them, has brought me greater joy and relief than any gift I could receive. _

_I still honour my promise to you and will wait as long as you need me to. I do not know what I have done to earn your regard, but I will endeavour to prove that I am deserving of it. I know it shall never be as fine as Helstone, but I would move mountains to make a life in Milton as comfortable and happy as you need. _

_I wish you and your family a very Merry Christmas. _

_God bless you, _

_John_

Margaret set the letter down on the arm with a small smile. It had arrived a week ago, and she confessed herself too caught up in Christmas preparations to compose a proper reply. She decided it would be best to apply herself to the task soon, before poor John arrived back on her doorstep in a panic that she had changed her mind.

She wandered back over to the writing desk and took a sheet of paper and her pen out of her box. She dipped her pen in ink and began to write.

_Dear John, _

_Your letter found me in the highest of spirits, I thank you. We have just passed a most wonderful Christmas day as our odd little family of four. Dixon put on an excellent luncheon after our usual sojourn to church and a very pleasing afternoon walk. We put up a tree of our own here, although I am sorry to hear of your struggles! We did not choose a particularly large tree, which I am glad of. Milton has spent the past week finding new spots in the tree to sequester himself in. I am so very fond of him, but it is an awful shock to be admiring the tree and suddenly spot his eyes gleaming back at you, they look rather menacing shrouded in darkness. And when he is not trying to claim it as his new bed, he is treating it as his new toy and conspiring to pull the whole thing down. Fred and Dolores were greatly diverted by the spectacle, but I could pull my hair out! However, Dixon swears she spied a mouse or two the other day, so he may be put to work soon. It may help distract him from his mischief. _

_I think you are too hard on yourself about Milton. Helstone holds beauty, it is true, but there is little substance behind the beauty. This place is not touched by poverty or illness in the way that Milton is. Dolores and I spend most of our days idling at home, embroidering more cushions and darning socks. Knowing that there are people that are in true need of any help I could give, but utterly unreachable can be frustrating to me. I was raised to a life as a gentleman's wife, planning endless tea parties and soirees, but that life no longer holds traction to me. I wish to be somewhere I am truly needed and useful. I was uncharitable about Milton during our first acquaintance, but I was angry at my father for taking us away from what seemed a perfect life and determined to deride everything I saw. I can now see how wrong that was of me and can only ask your forgiveness in return. How much sooner we may have reached an understanding if I had been more open to understanding this new life!_

_However, when I return to Milton, it will be of my own volition. To make a choice of my own for the first time, you cannot understand what that means. _

_Forgive my frankness. The past months of illness and uncertainty have taught me that it is always best to say exactly what I am thinking or feeling. You may find the blunt honesty refreshing, you may find the impertinence tiring and pack me back off to Helstone, we shall see. Assure yourself that you have chosen a wife who will always give you the absolute truth, for better or worse. _

_I realise, as I write this, that I know many complicated things about you, but I do not know many small and trifling things about you. When is your birthday? What is your favourite colour? Food? I want a complete sketch of the man I am to share a life with, and at the moment I only have a few outlines. Please feel free to ask as many trifling questions about me as you please. _

_A life with you is all that I require to be happy, but perhaps I may be permitted to bring Milton with me? I still struggle often with being alone, and your mother may not always appreciate me trailing around with her. Milton is fine company and helps calm my fears marvellously. _

_I do hope that your sister is keeping well in the small weeks before the birth. She and Watson are in my prayers for a safe delivery. Do pass along my regards to your mother. _

_Fred mentioned a desire to come and see your mill sometime after the New Year. Please let us know when would be convenient for a visit, we are entirely at your disposal. _

_I hope you and your family have had a merry Christmas and I am_

_yours, most sincerely, _

_Margaret _

She signed this letter and placed the cap back on her pen. She realised that she had wrote a rather long rambling letter in response to what had been a simple missive, but she did not think much of it. She hoped John would be buoyed by the recognition that she was giving serious consideration to the life they would build together and was not ducking out on him. She ruminated on this sudden twist in their acquaintanceship as she folded the papers to envelope them. A man who only a few weeks ago she was convinced she would barely ever see again was now beginning preparations to welcome her home as his wife. _His wife. _A position most had thought she would never hold. The sudden changes in her circumstances were a lot to get her head around, and she was still half convinced she would suddenly wake up to find it had all been a fantastical dream. The change in this man she had thought of almost constantly was also a lot to digest. Where he had once glanced at her with stern glances and formidable silence, there was now open smiles and warm laughter. She had thrilled in those soft brushes of his hand and the warm strength of his arm as she held it on their walk and found herself bereft without his touch.

She knew she was lucky to have found a man like John and that his behaviour was not usual of his sex. Even in her recovery, Henry's once marked attentions to her had disappeared altogether. He had but rarely visited to enquire after her health, despite her seeing his brother almost daily, choosing to retreat to his work and leave her to the care of her brother and cousin. He was also to be engaged, Margaret had heard, to the _charming and accomplished _sister of one of his legal associates or some other. Although she had never really harboured any affection for him beyond that of a friend and almost relation, the thought that he could turn away from her so quickly still stung what little pride she could hold onto these days. John, who had been unwaveringly attentive to her, even from afar, both in her illness and recovery was placed leagues ahead of Henry Lennox in Margaret's affection.

She then happened to glance at the clock and realised that it was almost midnight. Poking the fire apart so that it would go out on its own, Margaret gathered Milton into her arms and retired to her bed.

The next day, Margaret and Fred elected to take a stroll while Dolores rested and Dixon went to visit some friends. Fred watched while she placed her letter in the post box and they carried on to a nearby park. Margaret wouldn't admit it but she relished this time with her brother and knew that it would be in short supply when the baby arrived. They paused to sit on a bench and Fred turned to look at her.

"When do you expect to be leaving for Milton?" Fred asked her with a small trace of sadness in his voice.

"Not anytime soon I think. John will have to prepare his mother for the marriage and that won't be an easy task. You should also remember that we have a battle of our own," Margaret replied.

"What battle is that?" Fred asked with confusion.

"Aunt Shaw will have to be informed," Margaret sighed. She was excited for her new life but she knew that the inevitable conversation with her aunt would not be an easy one. She had made her opinions of "_that grimy place"_ clear on many occasions and Margaret was expecting no small amount of resistance to her departure.

Fred chuckled.

"Would you like me to recruit some old Navy pals for the offensive? She shall put up a battle no doubt. Do not worry yourself sister, I will be here with you."

"You do approve don't you? It's all so sudden, I fear I've quite runaway with myself" Margaret replied fretfully.

"I've told you before Margaret. I knew he was what you wanted and I promised I would help. I'm a man of my word. I've come to know him rather well through our business together and he is a reliable sort of chap, he will take good care of you I am sure. I know that father approved of him as well and that's enough for me. You have our full support, no matter what you choose. Just promise to come back and visit," Fred squeezed his sisters hand affectionately.

"How did you know that Dolores was the one for you?" Margaret asked her brother. He raised an eyebrow at this direct line of questioning but indulged his little sister.

"In Dolores, I knew that I had found a woman who knew all of my flaws, all of my darkest secrets, but could still love the man that I was underneath all of that. Love is not about finding the perfect person with no flaws; it is finding someone you can love in spite of their flaws"

Margaret reflected on these words. John had flaws to be sure, no one who had ever met him could deny it. He was quick to temper and could appear cold and almost uncaring to most that he met. However, Margaret knew that the latter part had developed from circumstance and was not entirely his natural personality. She knew first-hand that he could also be warm and tender and took great care of those he loved most.

She knew with all her heart that she would be able to love him despite any flaws. Yes, it would be difficult to be married to a man as quick tempered as he, but Margaret was sure she could learn how best to bring him back to rationality.

Fred was smiling at her knowingly.

"Forgive my impertinence sister, but I did happen a glance at the letter he sent. I had to check that he was not abusing my trust by writing absolute vulgarity," Fred smiled wryly, as they both knew John Thornton completely incapable of such a thing. "He does seem completely besotted and determined to make a good life for you. If I had to throw my support behind any one person, he would not be the worst choice"

"Thank you," was all Margaret needed to say as she looked at her brother. He nodded and they resumed their walk.

About a week later, John set the letter from Margaret down with a satisfied smile. It cheered him to know that she was still serious in her acceptance of him, he just needed to be patient a short while longer. He tucked the letter into his jacket pocket and left his office to check over mill progress while the workers ate luncheon.

The sight that greeted him in the courtyard was most bizarre. Higgins was stood in the courtyard, absorbed in conversation with one of the women from the spinning room. She smiled at something he said, before spotting Mr Thornton and scurrying away with a quick nod of her head. Higgins spun to see what had scared her off, and raised an eyebrow sternly at John, who smiled back at him, while also looking at him questioningly.

"Who was your acquaintance?"

Higgins huffed at the rather direct line of questioning before answering.

"M' neighbour, Missus Jones. She were askin' abou' th' children. Little Susie 'ad the flu las' week, n' she 'elped look after th' others"

"She seemed awfully amused by something you said. Never took you for a jester," John replied wryly. Higgins huffed again.

"Arthur is gettin' fond of 'er. Chewin' me ear off wonderin' when she'll come back. She though' it were funny"

"Doesn't she have children of her own to watch?"

"None o' her babes survived pas' childhood, poor mites. 'Er 'usband died few years back an' all, poor lass hasn' 'ad an easy time of it"

John frowned. Since the death of his father, he had had more of an appreciation for the hardships widows could face in this world. His mother, alone with two children to feed, no income and shunned by all she had once called friends, had teetered on the brink of total catastrophe. She could have simply packed them all off to the workhouse, but instead had determined that they would make their own way in this world. Yes, things had gone very hard for them for the first few years, but at least they could be proud that every penny they scraped together was theirs to keep and kept a roof over their head that was all their own. What Mrs Jones had gone through, having to bury all her children and then her husband, was still quite beyond John's comprehension. The closure of the mill could have been the end of her. At this moment she came hurrying back across the yard, and John appraised her. She was a short, squat women, who bore the figure of a woman who had carried several children. However, her hair was a vibrant red under the grey streaks that were setting in, perhaps some Irish blood in her, and her eyes were wide and a pleasant shade of green. She was pleasant enough to look at but did not hold a candle to his Margaret. However, he turned to Higgins and had to supress a laugh at the misty look on his face as he stared after her. He bid Higgins farewell, though he was not sure it was heard, and carried on his way.

He thought nothing of it until a week later when Higgins came to his office. Never one to beat about the bush, Higgins got right to it.

"Master, I've come t' ask for a day off. I've asked Missus Jones t' marry me, an' she said yes"

"Congratulations. But why so soon?" John asked, a little bewildered.

"Landlord of our street pu' all the rents up, n' Lottie cannae afford 'ers no more. I tol' 'er, she can move into our 'ouse. Mary is leavin' soon, as there's lodgin' up at the new 'ouse she's workin in, so we can squeeze her in. We're both jus' wantin' some company, both bein' widows an' the children wan' a mother"

John smiled at Higgins at this ever-sensible suggestion. Not everyone in this world had the fortune to marry for love, some were required to marry for much more sensible and practical reasons. However, he had seen them together enough times to know that there was enough affection, that hopefully something of love would grow between them.

"I will keep it mind. Come back when you have set a date. I suppose half the mill will want it off as well to come and wish you well," John replied. He dismissed Higgins with a benign wave of his hand, and reapplied himself to the task of writing a reply letter to Margaret.

_My dear Margaret, _

_I am glad that you and your family had a pleasant Christmas. We did have an enjoyable time here, but it was back to work very quickly for most of us. I am sorry that Milton has been such a rascal for you, some work should be a fitting remedy for him. Of course you may bring him with you, I am always in need of mousers for the cotton store houses. _

_Knowing that you know all the faults of my home and still wish to come is very comforting. I would only ever wish you to be able to make an informed choice and know that you are coming to me with your eyes open. It is touching that you would wish to help the people in this way, but I suppose a part of me just wants to protect you from more hurt and pain than you have already suffered. _

_Honesty is all I could ever ask from you, my darling. You think after longing for you for so long, I would pack you back off at the first sign of impertinence? I know that you would never say anything out of malice, and any truth I hear from you would be well deserved. _

_I do find it odd that I don't know the same things about you and will gladly indulge your curiosity if you will oblige me the same information. My birthday is on the 22__nd__ August, and I would say that my favourite food is lamb. I would not say I have a favourite colour, but I am becoming rather partial to the blue of your eyes. I would wish you to have a complete sketch of me. I suppose I could also tell you that I like to drink coffee with only a dash of milk and coffee, and do not care very much for fish._

_Higgins also sends his and his family's best wishes along to you. It seems Higgins is to be married. He and his neighbour, Mrs Jones, have formed an acquaintance and are happy to have a companion again after many years of widowhood between them. _

_I would gladly welcome you and Fred for a visit, and you are welcome to come any time. We shall gladly receive you at any time convenient to yourselves. _

_God bless you, _

_John_

He had just signed the letter and had placed the piece of paper with her address on it to post it, when his office door burst open again. He was about to crossly reprimand whoever had burst in without invitation, when he recognised the girl as a maid from Fanny's house, who looked like she had sprinted here.

"Begging your pardon Sir, but I am bidden by your mother to come fetch you. Mrs Watson's labour pains have begun," she gasped out.

John was immediately on his feet, and barked instructions at a clerk to send the letter for him. However, unnoticed by him, his coat knocked the papers off his desk as he swung it around his shoulders. The letter was later then swept up by a maid who came to clean. Mistaking it for discarded business matters, it was tossed into the fire.

AN: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Would you forgive the delay if I told you it was because it was my birthday? 26 feels mighty fine!

Chapter 14

Dolores was getting dizzy, watching Margaret pace a hole into the floor, wringing her hands and biting her lip. The poor post officer had been set upon almost instantly by Margaret as he walked up the path and had beat a hasty retreat when his lack of post from a certain Northern town was an unsatisfactory answer.

"Margaret, it will be okay. It has not been so long," Dolores attempted to soothe her.

"It has been almost three weeks!" Margaret replied rather frantically "I am sure he would have replied by now!"

"You don't know that sister. You have not been writing to each other very long," Dolores replied, at a loss as to how to calm her. Margaret merely paced on, unable to displace a feeling deep in her stomach that something wasn't right.

"We've got bigger problems!" Fred declared, startling them all as he came down the stairs, "Aunt Shaw is going to be here within the hour and you are going to have to tell her your news Migsy"

Margaret pushed the feeling aside, knowing she could address this issue later. For now, she would smile, greet her Aunt warmly, and hope that she would take this latest development well.

She was not taking this well. Margaret wondered if John would be able to hear her Aunt's protests all the way up in Milton and Fred was beginning to seriously worry for her health, admiring a throbbing vein in her temple he had seen but rarely. Edith, who had an unnerving talent for predicting these sorts of events before they happened (easy enough when one is both a hopeless romantic and notorious gossip), merely sipped her tea and sent her cousin supportive smiles, knowing it was best to let her mother's anger run its course.

"What could you be thinking Margaret? You are so ill and frail, and that place is so grimy and filthy, it will be surely be the end of you!"

"Aunt, I understand your worries, but I believe Mr Thornton is the best choice"

"How is any husband the best choice? I saw how ill you were Margaret; I could not bear to see you deteriorate again!"

"I will not! He makes no demands of me besides my company; I will not risk deteriorating"

"How can you know that?! He could change his mind; those merchant men are so used to getting their way!" Aunt Shaw seemed determined to win this argument, and Margaret sighed, gathering all her strength and patience.

"Mr Thornton is not the sort to go back on his word Aunt. He is too honourable for that. I am so much better than I was, and I cannot spend the rest of my life dependant on the charity of my relatives. He offers me a home and will make no demand on my inheritance. I can still be an independent woman. I am grateful for all that everyone has done for me, but I am ready to make my way in the world"

"You cannot understand what you are agreeing to! To remove yourself so far away from all your family, how would we help you if something went wrong?"

"Please Aunt, you must understand – "

"No, you will understand Margaret! You will understand what you are asking of me! I have already been forced to watch my sister leave for that awful place, never to return. Do not ask me to watch you leave as well!"

Margaret then finally saw the genuine fear in her Aunt's eyes, and they arrived at the crux of the matter. Aunt Shaw had never truly gotten over losing her beloved sister and placed all the blame solely on Milton and its smoky and gloomy atmosphere. As far as she was concerned, Margaret had begun hammering the nails in her own coffin by agreeing to go back. Margaret rose from her chair and went to stand with her Aunt, who had been pacing in front of the fireplace during her tirade. She took her Aunt's hands in her own and looked up at her.

"Aunt, you loved and miss Mother just as I do, as do we all. Milton is not solely to blame for her passing. She was ailing before we left, Father may have been wiser to send her to you. She was always worrying, about Father, about Fred, about the friends she was leaving. She was already of a frail constitution, it is very likely that… she would have died, no matter where we went" Seeing that she had finally coaxed her Aunt into silence, she continued.

"It is not as if I will be going off forever. Mr Thornton mentioned often having business meetings in London, we shall come and see you whenever he is bidden to these meetings. Fred practically refused his blessing until I promised to come and see him every summer and Christmas. I will tell you every day if I must Aunt, but I will always be grateful for everything you have ever done for me, and for Fred. Please do not think that I am attempting to scorn all your kind and gentle care toward me. Milton was one of the first places I ever felt truly useful and… needed, not just wanted. I must go back."

Everyone held their breath while they waited for Aunt Shaw to reply. At least her expression had calmed from complete outrage to a slight frown. Finally, she sighed, and all the fight seemed to sag out of her. She looked around for somewhere to sit, and Fred leapt out of his seat like someone had lit a firecracker under him. She sank into it, and looked up at her niece, seeming to properly see her for the first time in months. Gone was the frail, sickly creature of all those months ago. Margaret was back from whatever darkness she had been pulled into and seemed determined to take her life into her own hands. She, oddly, addressed her first question to Fred.

"What does the doctor say of her progress?"

"He's pleased enough. As long as she keeps up a sturdy diet and doesn't expose herself to too much excitement or stress, she should be able to carry on just fine, whatever she chooses to do"

She then looked at her niece and finally smiled, albeit sadly.

"There never was any talking you down from something you decided to do, was there Margaret? Sometimes I think you are too much like me. Truly, I do not wish to see you go, but I must accept that I cannot stop you. You are of age and I am no longer your legal guardian. I cannot tell you I am happy for you, but I will send you away with my best wishes, nonetheless. Just promise to write to us, as often as you can"

Margaret smiled sadly. She wished her Aunt would be able to be happy for her in her new life, but she knew she should accept this small victory. But, soon enough, her aunt seemed to be back to her usual grandiose self.

"Well, we should at least look over your winter wardrobe before we depart. It has been a while since you were last fitted and I daresay you shall need thicker garments than the usual linen dresses you have been wearing here. I am sure Mrs Rivers will be able to create some things for you if I send her your measurements"

Edith brightened at the mention of new clothes and Margaret had to suppress the urge to role her eyes. She had only just about got her aunt on side; it would not do to offend her now. She had never truly understood her aunt and cousin's obsession with new dresses and keeping to the latest fashion. She had been raised a parson's daughter, she preferred clothes cut in simple styles and from materials that could endure a little wear and tear.

She nodded along to Edith's chatter about the colours that were currently the most fashionable and who made the best lace to trim bonnets.

"Please do not go to too much expense Aunt. A new dress and some thicker shawls will perfectly suffice," Margaret interjected hastily before Edith ran amok.

"It is no worry Margaret; I shall rest easier knowing you are going back sufficiently prepared for the colder climate. Consider it a… wedding gift"

"Thank you, Aunt," Margaret replied quietly.

The talk continued in this fashion for some time, and Margaret found herself bundled upstairs by Edith and a maid to be sufficiently measured so that Aunt Shaw could convey the necessary information back to London. While they were gone, Aunt Shaw sat by the fire a while to ponder this new development.

"It is a shame that Henry Lennox had to dash off and get married so hastily. He and Margaret would have made a fine match, and it would have kept her in London. If only the man had been a little more patient," she remarked to Fred and Dolores. Fred's main impressions of the man had come from their short correspondence about his possible defence case, and he had only met the man once, which confirmed everything he'd ever thought of him. Practical to the point of bluntness and almost completely humourless. Margaret would have gone truly mad tied to a man such as that. No, Fred was happy to put his faith for Margaret's future entirely in John's hands, whatever the blasted man was up to.

"I have never heard Margaret express any regard for Henry beyond that of a business partner and family member. I do not think they would have been the best match," he replied to his aunt. She merely huffed and continued gazing into the fire.

Finally, the ladies came back downstairs, Margaret having brought Milton down from where he had been shut up in her room. Edith was fawning over him as if he were one of her precious babes, and he was content to accept her admiration.

Aunt Shaw turned her nose up slightly (she had always had a dislike of animals, as they were not conducive to keeping a house clean and presentable) but did not comment. Suddenly, the hour was upon them for farewells. After tearful embraces from Edith and much hustling and bustling from her mother, they were handed into a cab to take them back to the station. Margaret and Fred waved them off, Dolores having gone to bed to rest as the babe increasingly wore her out.

"Well, she took that rather better than I was expecting," Fred remarked to his sister. She frowned before replying.

"But I have not heard anything from him for almost a month. What if he has changed his mind and is afraid to tell me? What if I have just valiantly defended him for nothing?"

Fred could not bear to see his sister look so forlorn.

"I do adore you sister, but that constant dreary look on your face is starting to drag me down too"

She whirled around with an offended look on her face, only to find him almost laughing.

"We Hales were always curious creatures, weren't we? Go and pack a bag, we're on the next train out of here. We'll find out what's got him hiding away ourselves"

As it turned out, the next train up to Milton wasn't going to be until the next morning. This at least gave Margaret and Fred time to plan something slightly more rational than kicking John's office door down themselves. It was agreed that Dixon would remain and attend Dolores, and that Fred would engage a local girl to help Margaret while they were there. Milton was also to remain behind, although he was largely more self sufficient than Dolores and would not be too challenging a charge. Margaret went up to her room and ensured her travelling dress was laid out to change into and that she had packed everything she needed. She was suddenly so overwrought by the day's events that she merely pulled off her dress and corset and unpinned her hair before collapsing into bed.

Dixon did not thank her for it early next morning, when she had to painstakingly brush through the bird's nest that had gathered on Margaret's head, before finally pinning it into a neat bun. She was laced into her dress; she and Fred hastily ate a small breakfast and Dolores emerged to wave them off. She kissed Fred and embraced her sister.

"Good luck," she murmured to Margaret. Fred and Margaret headed for the cab to bear them to the train station, and before they knew it they were slowly pulling out of the station. Margaret's stomach turned over and over as she stared out the window, while Fred perused the newspaper. What on earth was John thinking, to fall so mysteriously silent? Had he indeed changed his mind, and was finding the best way to tell her? Had some accident or tragedy befallen him? Oh, what if something had happened to the mill? She was in danger of being lost to maudlin visions of disease and death or fires and riots, so determined to engage Fred in conversation.

"Have you and Dolores thought of any names for the child?" she asked, watching his head shoot up from his paper. He screwed up his face, thinking back to a hazy conversation.

"We were thinking Maria or Richard, for Mother and Father. But Dolores also wants Spanish names as well as English. Perhaps Isabelle. She also likes Fabian; he was her favourite brother. Perhaps a name will come to us when we finally meet the little one," he replied.

This was what Margaret liked about Fred. He had learned to accept completely random changes in the conversation without any questions. Her rather rigid posture in her seat suggested she needed more of a diversion, so Fred tossed his paper aside.

"Do not worry yourself pet. I've not know Mr Thornton long but he does not seem the sort to make a decision at breakfast and change his mind at lunch. There will be a perfectly reasonable explanation, I am sure"

She chuckled and then shook her head.

"I am sure I will go quite stir cooped up in this carriage. Read something from that newspaper. Perhaps we can talk about some of the things those important men in Parliament are always bickering about"

Fred laughed and retrieved the paper from his seat. It seemed the country was in need of a new Prime Minister, so Fred and Margaret passed a satisfactory amount of time discussing the issues Mr Hamilton-Gordon's successor should address.

Both of them started when the train finally lurched to a stop in Milton, and then sprang into action. They had come packed light, as they only intended to stay a few days. They were both easily able to lift their own cases and step down from the train.

Margaret paused slightly when she stepped off the train, remembering the grief and sadness she had been trapped under when she last left this place. But hearing the noise and bustle wash over her again breathed a new sort of energy into her. She finally felt… alive. She turned and realised Fred was waiting for her to lead on, having very little knowledge of this place. She marched down the stairs that led under the station and out onto the main street.

She could not helping turning her head left and right as she walked down the street. Her time in Milton felt like a lifetime ago, and she was drinking in the sights almost as if she were seeing it for the first time. People gazed at her as she walked by, perhaps vaguely recognising her, perhaps wondering who the strange gentleman beside her was. Perhaps wondering why, in a street of people shuffling about with their heads down, she was practically skipping.

Fred frowned as they made their way closer to Marlborough Mills, as the streets seemed a little too quiet and empty. Surely there should be horses and carts, and people?

He looked up and realised Margaret had stopped dead in front of a large wooden gate. A large gate that was currently closed and bolted.

Margaret's stomach churned harder than ever and she was in danger of losing what little breakfast she'd eaten. She and Fred exchanged troubled looks as they stared up at the gate, at a loss as to what to do. They both then almost leapt out of their skin as a little side door that they had not noticed creaked open and a man with a flat cap and impressive moustache came out. He also started at the sight of them, although his eyes glimmered with recognition as he looked at Margaret.

"Ye wantin' t' see Master? Mill's closed f' th' day," he explained calmly.

"Closed? Whatever for?" Fred almost demanded, earning himself a strange look. Margaret recognised the fellow now. Williams, his name was, one of John's main overseers.

"Not from roun' here are ye? Closed f' a wedding"

Margaret let out an involuntary whimper and Fred immediately tucked her hand into his arm, attempting to hold her up. He would get the information he needed out of this man, see his sister to her hotel room, then kill Thornton with his bare hands.

Williams was looking more puzzled than ever by their behaviour.

"Aye. Master closed th' mill f' a day. One o' his main hands, 'Iggins is t' wed in th' afternoon. O' course, awl the 'ands came beggin' t' go. So, Master closed up as a gift t' 'em. Gave 'em all th' day off"

The tight twisting in Margaret's stomach finally began to abate. It was Higgins who had got married. John had not abandoned her. She even remembered to be pleased for her dear friend and endeavoured to seek him out when she had chance.

"Well congratulations to the fellow," Fred managed to reply, looking slightly dumbstruck at this turn in events "Is the Master about to discuss business, or has he joined the festivities?"

Williams looked, if possible, slightly offended by the notion that the grand master had lowered himself to a day in the tavern with mill hands. He raised an eyebrow at Fred.

"Not Master's place t' intrude on th' worker's celebrations. Wha' business are ye needin' to discuss?" he asked Fred suspiciously.

Fred pulled a few papers out of his briefcase, a rather obtuse Christmas offering from one Henry Lennox. Margaret had puzzled at the rather ugly bonnet he had sent her, not sure if he genuinely thought it pleasant or meant to insult her in some odd way.

"We are the godchildren of the late Mr Bell. He bequeathed us to be joint landlords of Marlborough and made a final investment. We came to see that the mill was recovering sufficiently"

Williams' entire demeanour changed in an instant.

"Oh! Beggin' ye pardon Sir, bu' we weren' thinkin' t' have visitors today. I can 'ave the ledgers and accounts ready for ye t' view in jus' a few moments," he offered, making to turn back into the mill.

"Do not worry, I would not be able to make odds or ends of them on my own. If you could simply tell us where we may call upon Mr Thornton, we could arrange a meeting with him ourselves. I am sure he will forgive the impertinence"

Williams frowned.

"Not sure we're talkin' abou' th' same Mr Thornton. Bu' if ye insist, I las' saw him headin' up the hill t' the graveyard," he finally offered, waving in the general direction of the church.

Fred looked at his sister.

"Go and find him, you know your way better than I do. I'll take these to the hotel and find you later," Fred offered, taking Margaret's case from her hand. She smiled, whispered a strangled _thankyou_ and was gone in a whirl of linen.

Margaret did not remember the climb up the hill being quite this arduous but supposed she had not yet recovered her full strength. She looked around and spotted the graves of Bessie and the Bouchers. She paused a moment and said a prayer for their souls, before looking up to continue along the path to where her parents were buried. She spotted their headstones and startled when she spotted who was already standing there.

"_John," _she whispered almost fervently, a large breath finally escaping her chest. She resisted the urge to sprint up the hill to him. That sort of exertion would probably have her bedridden for a week. She walked slowly up, noticing that he seemed completely lost in thought. She was wondering how best to announce herself when she accidentally snapped a twig under her foot and John's head came shooting up. He looked about wildly before landing on her, and his eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

"Miss Hale?!" he spluttered, so shocked that he reverted to their usual formal address. He started towards her. To touch her, embrace her, to know that she was real, just _something_. However, Margaret suddenly found the weeks of uncertainty and the panic of thinking she had been abandoned overwrought her, and her arm recoiled and struck out quite of its own accord. The loud crack of her hand against his cheek brought her back to herself and she stared in horror of her own behaviour. But as God was her witness, she was going to have answers. He was staring at her agape, and she took advantage of his silence.

"Where have you _been?! _It has been near a month and we heard nothing from you! What have you been doing John?! We got so worried that we came to find you!"

Oddly, she did not shriek or shout as she said this, and it came out in more of a harsh whisper. She did not want to draw too much attention to them, unchaperoned as they were, and the parson's daughter in her chided her that they were in a sacred place and should not disturb the dead.

John's face melted from confusion to horror as he took her angry outburst in and the words almost fell over each other as he rushed to explain.

"My letter!" he almost cried, bringing a hand to his forehead "I wrote a letter… and then Fanny… I must have knocked it off the desk as I left!"

"Your sister? Mrs Watson, is she alright?" Margaret demanded, sympathy overriding her anger for the moment.

"Yes yes, she's fine, safely delivered," John waved this momentous occasion aside with a blasé wave of his hand, more concerned with Margaret's distress. "I have been so wrapped up in Fanny's delivery, she fell ill for a while after the birth, she is fine now, do not distress yourself!" he added quickly, as Margaret's hand flew to her mouth in a gasp. "I have been so wrapped up in her recovery and the mill that I did not think to check for a letter. I thought you busy, or away in London somewhere. I'm so sorry Margaret, what kind of husband will I be?!"

The poor man looked so utterly dejected that any remaining anger abated instantly. This did not bode well, Margaret thought wryly, to take a husband she seemed unable to stay angry with. Heaven knows what else he might get away with.

"You seem to have done marvellously as a brother, so I suppose that is a good start," she replied softly, and his head shot up to meet her gaze.

"How are you not furious with me? I allowed you to stay all alone in Helstone believing the worst had happened!"

"I am a little cross, it is true. But you and I have had far worse misunderstandings, have we not? Yet here we still stand. If everyone gave up at the first little hurdle marriage would have gone extinct generations ago"

He smiled wryly at her jest and as he acknowledged the truth of her words.

"I still must apologise most ardently, Margaret. How can I make it up to you?"

"There is nothing to apologise for John. Life happens, things that we cannot control. I suppose it would be easier to avoid these things if…" she trailed off, a short spark of courage abandoning her. However, John was as grasping and determined as he'd ever been and seized upon her half-statement.

"If? What could I do?" he asked gently. Margaret took a deep breath.

"If I was here with you. As your wife," she said quietly.

John sat so silent and still that for a moment Margaret thought he hadn't heard her, or that he did indeed intend to withdraw his offer. Then he began to laugh, and Margaret was almost offended until she saw the absolute joy in his eyes. It completely washed away his usual stern exterior and made him look almost a boy again. He raised a hand to his face, and it was trembling violently.

"You mean it?" he almost whispered, staring at her earnestly "You wish to come home… with me?"

She smiled as she took his shaking hand in her own.

"I was happy in Helstone, but coming back to Milton, this is the most… alive I have felt in months. I know I was reluctant, but I cannot live my life in fear anymore. I love you John Thornton" she said, smiling radiantly. John let out an odd noise that was somewhere between a cough and an actual sob.

"I love you, Margaret Hale, will you be my wife?"

"Could you agree to take a woman who may never give you children?" she asked suddenly, her old fears and doubts creeping in. John however, smiled serenely.

"You must have also missed my mother's letter announcing Fanny's delivery. Twin boys," he announced. "You should hear Fanny go on about it, she thinks herself the cleverest woman in England to give her husband his heir and the spare in one go," he told her with a hard roll of his eyes. Margaret giggled.

"That is wonderful news indeed. But I must ask, what is that to do with us?"

"I spoke to Watson not long after the birth. He knows only a little of your illness and my hopes of marrying you. He is agreeable that, should we not produce children of our own, I should name the younger boy my heir and teach him the running of Marlborough, to inherit when I am gone" he smiled, rather pleased with himself for this most practical arrangement.

"Oh John, do not speak of death now. But that is a most wonderful idea. I suppose you should have liked a Thornton to take on Marlborough, and keep it in the family name," Margaret fretted.

"The boy will still have Thornton blood in his veins. A name is but a name Margaret," John replied sagely. "Now, have I settled all your concerns? Will I have an answer?"

Margaret rolled her eyes.

"Patience has never been your strong suit Mr Thornton. We shall have to see what we can do about that" Then her face softened. "Yes, I will stay, and be your wife"

He smiled then, so broadly that she could see all his teeth and took her hand in his, to press a kiss to the soft knuckles. Then, he looked over her shoulder, and almost fell over jumping backwards, to put a respectable distance between them.

"Margaret!"

She whirled, and spotted Fred walking up the hill toward them. She waved to him, and he carried on to join them.

"Ah Thornton, we finally found you. Glad to see there is no catastrophe, we were quite thinking the worst"

"I do apologise for that. I explained to Margaret that my sister suffered a brief illness after giving birth, so we were all preoccupied with seeing her well recovered"

"Gracious, I am glad she is well"

"I am glad you joined us Fred, I must tell you something," Margaret told her brother. He smiled and looked at John expectedly.

"Mr Thornton has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted" she told him, her voice full of confidence. Fred beamed, embraced her, and shook John's hand.

"Congratulations. I will be sorry to see you go sister, but I would not part with you for anyone else"

"Thankyou, brother," Margaret replied, wiping tears from her eyes. Fred turned to look over Milton

"Right, where to now?"

AN: It was one of those "I wasn't motivated to write and life ran away with me" times. We're so near the end now, I hope you've enjoyed coming on the ride with me.

Sid x


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you to everyone who's seen me along this far! This was just started as a little project to keep me sane through lockdown, and now I'll be sad to see it end. Shall I just keep writing forever? I'm sure I could cough up a few paragraphs of John and Margaret just sitting around petting Milton.

Chapter 15

"Where to now?" turned out to be along to the nearby church in hopes of seeing the happy couple emerge. John had mentioned that the service must be nearing the end so Margaret had taken off to see if she could catch sight of her friends, forgetting she was still holding onto his arm. Fred had fought back laughter at the sight of his tiny sister practically dragging the mighty master of Marlborough along in her wake. John would have a harder job containing her than he thought.

Fate was smiling on Margaret that day, as they had just approached the church doors as they opened, and the happy couple emerged. Weddings for the workers did not follow the same grandeur as the upper classes, and the wedding party were simply dressed in their Sunday best. Mrs Jones - although she would be Mrs Higgins now - had not been able to afford the luxury of a veil or train, and she clasped a simple posy of lavender and forget me nots. Both, however, looked radiantly happy, and Higgins' face brightened even further when he looked up and spotted Margaret, clutching John's arm and waving at him merrily. He leaned over to murmur in his new wife's ear, and they both made their way over. However, Higgins was nearly bowled over by the Boucher children, who were charging over to Margaret with shrieks of delight. She was warmed to see them all wearing the clothes she sent for them and released John to kneel down and accept their happy embraces.

"Miss Margaret!"

"Where 'ave you been?"

"Are you come back t' Milton forever?"

"Will you listen t' my readin' later? Mr Thornton says I'm much better"

Margaret chuckled, straightening up with little Susie still clutched in her arms, as the little one had clung most tenaciously to her neck.

"Hello again my little darlings, how splendid you all look!"

"Miss Margaret"

Nicholas had finally made his way over, and the man was beaming from ear to ear.

"Nicholas, how lovely it is to see you. Please accept my congratulations for your happy day"

"Come here. Le' me take your hands, an' know tha' you're real"

She placed Susie back on the ground, much to the little one's objections, and clasped Nicholas' hands firmly.

"There, now you see that I am real"

Nicholas turned to Fred

"You mus' be Miss Margaret's brother. You look jus' like Mr Hale, God res' 'is soul"

"Thank you Sir. I offer congratulations to you and your wife"

Nicholas chuckled.

"Think that's the firs' time I've been called Sir. Hope it don' go t' m' head. Now Miss Margaret, if I may be frank. I saw th' way you were holdin' master's arm. Tell me you 'ave some happy news o' your own, an' I will think my day of joy complete"

Margaret looked back at John for a moment, who nodded, smiling almost as widely as Higgins.

"You are correct in what you saw Nicholas. Mr Thornton and I are to be married"

"I'm glad t' hear it. Here, come meet m' wife. Lottie, this is our dear Miss Margaret"

"A pleasure t' meet you Miss," said Lottie, bobbing her head.

"Miss Margaret!"

"Mary!"

The two girls embraced like old friends. Mary was also overjoyed that Margaret was come to Milton to stay and was bidden by Miss Hale to see her in a few days to catch up.

Soon, the wedding party repaired back to Princeton to have a small sort of celebration. John explained that he had set by enough to send baskets of food to the whole street as a wedding gift. Margaret, Fred and John waved them off, although Fred remained behind, looking pensive.

"You two go on ahead. I thought I would remain a while, with Mother and Father"

"If you are sure Fred?" Margaret asked

"Very sure. I will see you back at the hotel for dinner. John, will you and your mother be joining us?"

"I am bidden to see my sister first, although I am sure she will not mind Margaret accompanying me. We had no plans after that, so I am sure something can be arranged"

Fred nodded, and waved them off down the hill. Margaret took John's offered arm, and vainly indulged in a private thought of what a handsome couple they made. _If you cannot indulge such thoughts on the day of your engagement_, she thought, _when can you?_

They wandered back down the hill. After their fruitful discussion earlier, they were now more comfortable to wander along in companionable silence. Williams was letting himself back into the mill as they passed, and he nodded curtly at the both of them, although his eyes flashed down the street behind them, perhaps wondering where that other gentleman had got to.

They carried on through town, towards Fanny and Watson's house. They spied Mr Latimer while they were out, though he merely tipped his hat to John and gave Margaret an oddly appraising look. She supposed he were wishing it were his daughter Anne on John's arm instead of her.

Soon, they were at Watson's front door, and John rapped smartly on the door. A maid let them in, taking John's coat and hat and Margaret's bonnet and cloak.

The sounds of women's voices, cooing and fussing in a low tone, along with babies babbling, drifted to Margaret from the doorway of the parlour. John bid her to stay a moment and went to announce them.

"There you are John! We quite thought you'd gotten lost or something. You were due a half hour ago, and we know what a stickler for punctuality you are!" Fanny spoke up first, though her voice was much quieter than Margaret was accustomed to hearing. Perhaps motherhood had gone a way to soothing some of her usual excitability.

"I do apologise sister. I was distracted while out on a walk. The Hales are in town, and Mar- Miss Hale is waiting to see you"

"Oh indeed? Come in Miss Hale, it will be good to see you," Mrs Watson called to her.

She wandered into the room, and found Mrs Thornton and Fanny looking up at her, clustered around two small but handsome wooden cradles. She dipped them a small curtsy, as was the etiquette.

"Mrs Thornton, Mrs Watson, lovely to see you both again," she greeted them politely.

"A pleasure to see you Miss Hale, if a little unexpected. I am glad to see you looking well," Mrs Thornton replied, looking at her with an expression that was almost a smile. Well, thought Margaret, Rome wasn't built in a day.

"Come, Miss Hale. Come and meet the new Master Watsons. They are awake and becoming most observant," Fanny beckoned her over. Margaret stepped quietly across the floor, not wanting to break this picture of familial bliss. She gazed into the cradles and found two pairs of eyes gazing most curiously back at her. Both were blue eyed, as were most babes at birth, but one she found had a rather steely shade to their eyes that was not to dissimilar to John's. This one's glower would be fearsome to behold in years to come!

"Ah, I see you've caught Thomas' peculiar gaze," Fanny observed, her voice full of motherly pride.

"Thomas? That is a lovely name Mrs Watson, what did you choose for the other?" Margaret replied.

"So, Thomas is the youngest. Thomas Jacob. And the older is to be Robert, Robert George," Fanny answered, gazing fondly at her offspring. As well as all the usual pride a mother felt for her children, Fanny Watson was surely also feeling a sense of relief. Childbirth was still a dangerous business, and just as many mothers were killed by it as those who rose from the birthing bed. Having given Watson the much-desired son, and another to spare, Fanny would be under no pressure to quickly conceive again. She may never even have to carry a child again if she so wished.

"Those are lovely names. How are you Mrs Watson? Mr Thornton mentioned you were unwell after the birth," Margaret remembered to ask.

"I'm sure he sold you some story about me being at death's door, he was always so dramatic," Fanny rolled her eyes fondly. John and Margaret exchanged a glance at the irony of Fanny Watson calling anyone else dramatic, and Mrs Thornton came over with the strangest little cough.

"It was not so serious then?" Margaret asked.

"I only took a slight fever and was in bed for a few days. Do not worry yourself Miss Hale. It would have been most impractical for me to die. Watson is hopeless with children and their beloved uncle would not have been much better. I am sure John's idea of a good bedtime story would be sitting and reading them the mill's accounts for the day," Fanny joked. John looked offended and Margaret stifled a giggle, wondering if Mrs Watson was right about her brother.

"So what brings you to Milton Miss Hale?" Mrs Thornton finally asked her. Margaret opened her mouth and then paused, not quite sure how to explain her presence that did not include "_Well Mrs Thornton, your son did not write to me for a few days and so I very logically concluded that the mill had gone to complete rack and ruin"_

"I invited them Mother. I've recently invested in some new machinery and wanted to show them how it has improved our productivity and what Mr Bell's investment has done for the mill"

Fanny accepted this explanation and was soon diverted again by her eldest son making a grab for the small stuffed bear that had been suspended over his cradle.

Mrs Thornton narrowed her eyes slightly. She was still very involved in the running of the mill and she had seen no new machinery come through the doors, so was not sure how far she believed this explanation. The impish looks John was sending Miss Hale told her there was something else going on between them.

"So what news from Helstone, Miss Hale?" Fanny asked, jolting John out of his silent reverence of the woman before him who had, against all expectations, agreed to be his.

"Life goes on as ever it did. Dolores grows closer to her confinement, yet is resisting all discussion of the matter, to Aunt Shaw's horror" she replied, seeming quite amused by the debacle.

"She does not wish to take to confinement?" Hannah asked, seeming bemused but not so theatrically horrified as her Aunt had been. In truth, Hannah had disapproved of long confinement periods, and had herself still been relatively active in the weeks leading up to her children's births, and back up and about not long after. She detested idleness of any form and had wanted to be straight back to work and society. She still wondered to this day if her late husband had deliberately delayed arranging her churching after the births in an attempt to force her to rest.

"The tradition of confinement does not seem to exist in Spain. The warmer climate means that sometimes houses become too hot for expectant women to comfortably rest in for long periods of time, so they do not bother with it as much. Women only really take to bed when they are giving birth or if they become ill"  
"I wish I had been so lucky," Fanny replied mournfully, "The last few months of carrying the boys, it was so cold I had no choice but to remain in bed. Warming pans and a roaring fire and my toes still felt like ice! Watson would not let me out for fear I would slip in the snow!"

"_Why do I feel, _Margaret wondered, _that John would be exactly the same?"_

"How long are you to be in Milton, Miss Hale? We must take tea if it is suitable to you," Fanny asked her.

"I think Fred and I are to stay another day or so. Our main business is settled, so we shall catch up with some acquaintances and then be back to Helstone. My brother ordered nursery furniture rather prematurely, and Dixon and Dolores may be left to move it by themselves if we do not return soon"

"Oh, you should both come to dinner tomorrow then! Watson is hosting one of his dinner parties to celebrate the birth of the boys, I am sure we shall be able to add two extra places!"

"That is most kind Mrs Watson. I am not sure we have brought clothes fine enough for such an event," Margaret replied.

"It is not to be too formal an evening, do not worry. Just put on whatever you've brought that's best," Fanny assured her.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about tomorrow, Fan. I wondered if I might be permitted to make an announcement of my own?"

"Oh?" Fanny leaned toward her brother with a renewed interest, wondering what could possibly be so important.

"Miss Hale came to Milton at my behest, not only to view the mill, but also to discuss… other matters. I have made her an offer of marriage, and she has accepted me," John announced, unable to stop the smile that spread over his face. Margaret gave her future mother and sister in law a nervous smile, anticipating how they would take the news.

"I did wonder John; you did practically float through the door. Congratulations to you both," Fanny replied, smiling.

Mrs Thornton did not immediately reply but gazed at her son and future daughter in law thoughtfully. She then glanced at Margaret's hands, clasped in front of her.

"You've not presented her with a ring John?" she asked, although the tone was more curious than unkind. Margaret immediately covered her hand and John flushed with embarrassment.

"I intended to ask her after I purchased a ring. Things… did not work out that way," he mumbled.

"You can't present Miss Hale as your betrothed tomorrow without a ring John!" Fanny exclaimed.

Mrs Thornton glanced at her hand.

"I suppose, Miss Hale, that you ought to have mine," she finally offered, twisting the handsome diamond band off her finger and holding it out to John.

"Mother…," he started, but she talked over him.

"Your father intended this ring to go to you when you met the woman you wanted to make your wife, for her to give to your son in the years to come. I had hoped he would be here to see you receive it, but I pray you will be able to see Margaret give it to your son. Take it, and make sure it sees a longer marriage than I did. Take it, with my blessings for you both," she told him softly, sending Margaret a soft, sad smile. Margaret wanted to fling her arms around this woman and hug her pain away but knew Hannah would probably not approve of such theatrics.

John seemed to be blinking away tears as he took the ring from his mother and caught her hand as he took the ring, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Thankyou," he whispered. He turned to Margaret, and she held out her left hand. To everyone's relief, it glided onto her finger like it had always meant to be there.

"A perfect fit," Hannah commented. A good omen, to her mind.

"Thankyou Mrs Thornton, will you and John be able to join Fred and I for dinner? And yourself, Mrs Watson"

"I'm so sorry Miss Hale. Watson and I are bound to his sister for dinner, so we shall see you tomorrow night"

"Mrs Thornton will be your mantle soon enough Miss Hale. You should get used to calling me Hannah. We have no plans and will be glad to join you tonight"

"Thankyou. You of course must call me Margaret"

They stayed a bit longer, bidden to have lunch, fussing over the babies and discussing some small wedding plans. Margaret learned quickly that her simple wish of putting on her favourite dress and walking to the church was looking unlikely. John was at the top of Milton society, she was reminded, and his nuptials would have to reflect that status and position.

Finally, she and John left, for him to see her back to her hotel after he quickly changed into a smarter waistcoat and cravat. Mrs Thornton would change for dinner and follow along in a cab.

They entered the foyer and to Margaret's relief found Fred already waiting for them, sitting reading a paper in a resplendent looking armchair. He looked up at their footsteps and leapt to his feet.

"Ah excellent, you found your way alright. I remembered to engage a maid, she's preparing a wash bowl if you want to go up and refresh yourself"

"Thankyou. Mrs Watson has invited us to dinner tomorrow, I told her we would be able to attend. I hope it won't be an inconvenience?"

"Won't be a problem, our tickets home are arranged for the day after. Go, I'll keep my soon to be brother-in-law amused," he replied impishly. She mock wagged a finger in his face.

"Be nice. I'll be back to rescue you soon Mr Thornton" she turned and departed for the stairs.

"She was being humorous, right?" John asked him nervously. Fred chuckled as he sat back down, gesturing for John to take the seat across from him.

"You're a solid foot taller than me John and probably twice as strong. Dolores would shudder to think how much of me might be left to send home," he replied.

"Have you always had such joy in teasing each other?" John asked.

"Oh we were always playing the odd little joke on each other as children, I thought our parents would quite despair. Never any serious mischief, just enough to occasionally warrant a rap across the knuckles. I suppose I tease so much now because only a year ago I did not know when I would get the chance again. Never take the little things for granted John. Let that be my marriage advice to you, the advice both our fathers should have been here to give us," he said sadly.

"Thank you," John replied. He then looked over Fred's shoulder and stood smartly as Margaret descended the stairs. She was refreshed and changed into a simple cream dress and blue shawl.

She made her way back over.

"Dixon must have some sense of clairvoyance. She's actually packed that pale blue dress from Leonard's wedding, it will do quite nicely for the dinner tomorrow. Ah good, your mother is here," she greeted them, looking over John's shoulder, He turned and indeed, his mother had just stepped into the foyer.

"Mother," he greeted her.

She kissed his cheek politely and greeted the Hale siblings. Fred took a moment to admire the ring upon Margaret's finger, and all agreed that it looked very fine.

They went through to dinner. Talk turned to John and Margaret's wedding, again hashing small details. Hannah also advised Fred of some material for expecting mothers that Dolores may have been interested to pursue.

It was a small affair, and the Hales were in good spirits when they waved the Thorntons away in good spirits.

"Now we just have to survive this dinner party tomorrow, and then back to Helstone to settle your affairs," Fred remarked.

"A great deal to look forward to," Margaret ruminated, looking greatly forward to her new future.

AN: Life has just absolutely been running away with me lately. I've been going out for job interviews and not having much luck, which has been dragging me down. Finding the motivation to write has been difficult, and I am sorry to anyone who's been looking forward to a new chapter. I'm glad we're as far through as we are. Few more chapters left.

Sid x


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The next afternoon, Margaret hurried through the streets of Princeton, her coat drawn tight around her. Milton was still in the grips of winter, and the icy breeze was relentless. The people seemed to still be in high spirits from the celebrations of the day before, as they had been able to lay on a veritable feast thanks to the provisions sent from John. Some even cheerfully nodded to Margaret in greeting, where most would have warily avoided her. She smiled fondly at some children playing in the street and knocked on Higgins' door, where she knew Mary would be spending her day off attending the Boucher children. Mary appeared before she'd knocked, and ushered her in.

"Come in Miss Margaret, see if you can get warm from the fire"

"Thankyou Mary"

She seated herself by the fire, having handed over the little basket she had brought and was instantly set upon by the children who were clamouring to see if she had brought biscuits or cakes or any other treats. Mary peeked into the basket and started handing out the selection of treats Margaret had placed in there, along with a sufficient joint of meat, bread and cheese to ensure the family a hearty supper that night. Satisfied, the children slunk away to enjoy their treats, leaving the woman to gossip with a modicum of peace and quiet.

"Tell me Mary, how is everyone?"

"We've been doing as well as we can. Pa is a lot happier now Lottie is around, although it don't half feel crowded in here sometimes with all of us crammed in"

"I thought they had given you lodgings, up at the Johnsons'?"

The Johnsons were another of Milton's wealthy families, although Mr Johnsons' profession was a mystery to Margaret, who had never seen him except for their appearance at the Thornton's dinner last year. She hadn't expected to see them either, rumour was they had a habit of politely declining.

Mary shook her head.

"They've purchased a new estate out in the country, and word is Mrs Johnson doesn't want the fuss of taking any of us with 'em. Suppose we'll be getting our dismissals any day now"

She was mystified, then, that Miss Margaret was smiling at her rather than looking pitying or worried.

"Now that, Mary, I may be able to help you with"

"Don't fret Miss, wasn't much fun working for them"

"No no Mary, I wish you to come and work for _me_"

Mary continued to look mystified.

"I told you yesterday, that I am returning to Milton, to be married to Mr Thornton. Dixon is advancing in age, and I am sure she would much rather remain in the warmer Helstone climate, attending my brother and his family. Therefore, I wish for you to join me at Marlborough Mills, and work as my ladies maid. You would have your own room and 3 meals a day with the other servants, as well as a decent wage. What do you think?"

"Sounds a fine offer Miss, but I was only a scullery maid up at the Johnson's. Don't know much about attending fine ladies"

"Jane can teach you; she is Mrs Thornton's maid. There is not much in it, just helping me dress in the mornings and for bed or changing for dinner invitations. Everything else we can work out along the way, I am not such a dragon of a mistress," she joked. Mary chewed her lip for a moment, and then smiled.

"I'll be happy to accept Miss. When would you be expecting me to start?" she asked, sticking out her hand. Margaret laughed and shook it, reaching an agreement.

"It won't be for a month or two at least, I am returning to Helstone for a short while before the wedding. I'll inform Mr Thornton; he will arrange for you to visit the house and observe Jane from time to time to be trained. Mary nodded, and so the two sat and conversed a while on other topics, and Margaret even read to the children for a while, who were soon clamouring for attention again after consuming their cakes. Soon, it was time for the children to sit for lunch, and Margaret excused herself. She picked up the brisk walk back towards town, perhaps to head back to the hotel, when she spotted Fred and John standing together at the entrance to the mill, conversing. John saw her first, and Fred followed his gaze, spotting his sister and waving her over.

"What excellent timing you have Migs! John was just giving me a tour of the mill and showing me what everything actually is. Now I might actually understand some of what he is telling me whenever he writes to discuss business!"

"That is very fortunate indeed – do you have business still to finish?" she asked them.

"I have mill business to attend Miss Hale, your brother is now free of my clutches," John replied with a wry smile. Margaret almost let out an unladylike shriek of mirth, but quickly turned it into a little cough. If someone had told her months ago that she and Fred would be standing together with Mr Thornton, and he would be the one cracking jokes, she would have suggested _they _be taken to the madhouse in her place.

"Indeed I am quite at your disposal dear sister, what shall we do with ourselves?" Fred offered cheerfully.

"I thought we would go and sit with Mother and Father a while. We haven't been there together yet, properly," Margaret replied quietly.

Fred's smile only slipped a fraction, but he still held out his arm, and they bid John farewell. They took the familiar path up the hill and stood in front of the headstones. Margaret spoke first.

"Father had accepted an invitation, from Mr Bell, to go to Oxford… just before he…. passed. What if he had gone, and something had happened to him there? I could not bear the thought of he and mother being… apart," she said, in a voice barely above a whisper. Fred reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"Do not torment yourself. They are together on Earth just as surely as they are together in heaven"

"What did you do, the last time you were here?"

"Spoke a while with mother and father. I was wondering if I was doing the right thing, letting you go"

"You doubted Mr Thornton?"

"I doubted myself, dear sister. I did not know whether I was truly selfless enough to let you go, after finally being able to get my little family back together in our beloved Helstone. I have barely doubted John for a second, and today was the final proof I needed. We had to stop several times on our tour, as there were matters arising that he would insist on overseeing himself. The man is utterly devoted to his trade, and actually knows what he's talking about, unlike all those London gentlemen we were forced to endure," he rolled his eyes hard "If he will show even half of that understanding and devotion to you, I shall know you to be a very happy wife"

Margaret reached for her brother's hand, and he took it with a gentle squeeze. They stood before the graves a little while longer, swapping fond stories, before leaving to change for the Watson's dinner.

"There, shall I avoid disgracing you tonight?"

Margaret had looked up at the knock on her door, and had giggled as her brother walked in. He was tugging on a light blue cravat that went well against his black waistcoat. His cravat complimented nicely the pale blue dress Margaret had just been laced into. Mother had been fond of putting them in matching colours as children. If Margaret was wearing a red dress, then Fred could usually have been found sporting a red jacket or even just a little red cap.

"You look very splendid indeed brother. You may even out swagger all the gentlemen there," she replied with mock pomposity.

"You look very fetching yourself sister. It's good that we are both spoken for, for I fear we may leave a trail of broken hearts behind us tonight!" he declared theatrically, then having to look away as they both burst out laughing. Just in time for John to be announced into the room, only to warily back out of it again, muttering as he left with a roll of his eyes.

"_Hales" _

It was a much more composed and regal pair that went downstairs to greet John, all piling into a carriage together, although Margaret seemed determined to protest an earlier discussion.

"You really didn't have to come and meet us John, we could have found our own way there perfectly fine – it is an unnecessary use of your time!"

"But it will allow me the very great pleasure of escorting my fiancée into dinner, so therefore I see it as an absolute necessity Margaret," John replied, grinning from ear to ear as he said it so she knew he was not actually cross with her.

"What sense you speak Mr. Thornton! There Migsy, surely you cannot argue against such a sentiment!"

Margaret had the grace to look mollified and accepted defeat. Fred took the opportunity to enquire after any wedding plans that had been made and venture his own opinions. He and Dolores had only managed a small wedding affair, due to his limited expenses and the need for secrecy as he was only recently returned from England and needed to lay low. She had bore it all quite cheerfully, but Fred had wished for something more extravagant befitting such a perfect bride. It seemed he was determined that his sister should not suffer such paltry nuptials, now that they were of means, and Margaret had let out a strangled gasp as he announced his intended financial contribution.

"What on earth do you think we're planning here Fred? We aren't royalty!"

"I just want the very best for you on your wedding day Migs. You've been through so much the last year and a half, surely you deserve one day of being treated like royalty?"

John was nodding along sagely, and Margaret knew she was in danger of being outnumbered.

"I do not want the very best Fred. You know my tastes and preferences have always run much more simply than that. A sunny day in a new dress and my husband by my side is all I desire," Margaret beseeched him.

"Very well Migs. Have you thought of where you might wish to go for your honeymoon?"

No one had thought of how much Milton knew of Fred, and to say that his being announced into the room as "Mr Hale" caused a few ripples may well be an understatement. There was a great deal of muttering amongst the men who had known their father, and Margaret was sure the ladies were exchanging a few choice words behind their fans. If Fanny noticed, she was not fazed, as she instantly moved across the room to greet them.

"Fred, Margaret; so glad you were able to join us," she smiled, drawing them across the room to perform introductions. Some men recognised him from the articles about Captain Reed and the Navy's pardon and some seemed taken aback, having probably expected some giant of a fellow for all his previous reputation of a hardened criminal. Fred, for his part, was everything charming and cordial.

Margaret drifted over to the ladies' side of the room and went to greet Hannah. She was standing sentinel over the cradles, as the boys were being exhibited before they were put to bed and the adults went to dine.

"Good evening Mrs Thornton, how are the young masters?" It was clear that Hannah was taking fierce pride in her grandsons and could certainly devote many a conversation to them, though perhaps not as effusively as their mother.

"Growing by the hour Miss Hale. It is hard to remember how small they were when they came into the world"

Margaret chuckled at that and held out her hands to Thomas and Robert, who were waving fat little fists in the air. They gripped her fingers with a strength that surprised and delighted her. She indulged in that pastime that many a sensible adult take to and began pulling odd faces for the boys' amusement. Fanny was drawn over by the sound of their babbling, finding them smiling broadly at the one who would soon be their Aunt.

"I am so pleased you've been able to conjure a smile out of these two Margaret. I was afraid they would grow to be as serious and forbidding as their uncle!"

Margaret had to stifle a giggle at John's offended expression before she replied.

"They are such delightful little boys. I am glad of the opportunity to practice the role of doting Aunt before my brother's wife gives birth"

"Ah yes, when is she expected to deliver?"

"Not for some time yet, the doctor says August or September. She is just relieved that her sickness is starting to abate, although finding it hard to bend over as the baby is starting to show"

It was not common for unmarried women to discuss the trials of childbearing so frankly, but Margaret barely batted an eyelid at what she had seen Dolores go through. Dolores had also fondly swatted her away anytime she expressed concern or offered to help.

"_My mother was still able to run around after 3 boys and me while heavy with another child, I think I shall be alright my dear sister. I am from hardy stock_," she'd often dismiss her with a smile.

"Oh the sickness is easily the worst part. I am not looking forward to going through that again!" Fanny replied.

"You wish to have more children?" Margaret asked her.

"Oh of course! Watson has his desired heirs of course, but I should so like to have a little girl. We could wear matching dresses whenever we go out!" she replied, sounding more like the Fanny of old.

The Latimers then arrived, and Fanny moved away to greet her guests, leaving Margaret and the two Thorntons. She looked over to where Fred was extricating himself from a discussion with Slickson and Hamper. He spotted them and moved over.

"What were you discussing? I hope Slickson and Hamper weren't too much of a bother," John asked Fred, shooting the two other men a warning look. Fred rolled his eyes.

"Full of hot air mostly. Asking about life in the Navy and bragging about all the acts of bravery they would have regaled us with if they'd ever enlisted," he muttered. He'd had his fill of such conversation mingling with Aunt Shaw's London friends. John muttered a few choice words under his breath. Margaret knew it was the need for their partnership in business, rather than a genuine desire for their company, that made John guard his tongue around the other mill masters. He was the youngest among them, and many of them scoffed at his 'radical' new business ideas.

An attendant then came to announce that dinner was ready to be served. Fanny handed the twins to two maids with a great deal of pomp that Margaret hoped was solely excitement of the occasion and not a nightly occurrence. The guests began lining up to go to dinner. Margaret thought she saw a flicker of hope in Miss Latimer's eyes as she spied John near her, only for it to slide off her face as he moved past her to offer Margaret his arm. However, Miss Latimer's expression was unreadable when she looked again, so Margaret dismissed it from her thoughts. She saw that Fred had been lined up to take Miss Hamper into dinner. She batted her eyelashes and Fred very deliberately angled his hand so she could not miss the glint of his wedding ring.

The dinner itself was uneventful. She was seated opposite John so did not get much of an opportunity to engage him in conversation. Miss Hamper and her mother were pleasant enough company and listened to her stories of life in Helstone with benign politeness. Finally, the last of the dishes were cleared away and Watson got to his feet.

"Well, firstly I should thank you all for attending our little soiree tonight. We are here of course to celebrate the birth of my sons and my wife's fortunate recovery from what was a most trying labour. I am in awe of the strength she showed and thank God every day for the gift she has bestowed upon me. If you would join me please, in raising your glasses. To Mrs Watson!"

The guests drank along with him, and Fanny glowed at the praise from her husband. Margaret briefly wondered if such a celebration would have been put on for the birth of a daughter but thought better of voicing it. Then, Watson turned his attention to John.

"And my wife also informs me that my dear brother in law wishes to make an announcement of his own! Therefore, I hand the floor to you John"

He sat back down and John rose to his feet. Margaret and Fred exchanged conspiratorial looks that were not missed by a few of the ladies.

"Thankyou. I again extend my congratulations to you and my sister. I merely wish to announce that I have made an offer of marriage to Miss Hale, and she has accepted my hand. I have also been so fortunate as to gain the blessing of her brother, who has welcomed me as family. I would also like to make a toast to those two people who should be here to celebrate with us, God rest their souls. To Mr and Mrs Hale," he murmured the last part sombrely, and the guests drank with him. Margaret send John a grateful, if teary smile. It was touching that her parents were able to be included in her engagement in some small way.

Margaret and Fred did not linger long after dinner, long enough for her to accept congratulations from the other ladies. Most of the older women seemed a little put out that they had not been able to secure John's affections for their own daughters, but they were well bred ladies first and foremost.

John handed her into her cab and promised to be at the station the next morning to farewell them.

He was as good as his word and even looked like he'd been waiting there for them a while. He reviewed the tasks he had been set by his betrothed while she was away.

"Yes, I will go to Reverend Bamber this Sunday and look to set a date and arrange the banns. May is what you wanted?"

Margaret had not wanted to wait too long for the wedding, wanting Dolores to still be able to travel and attend. He had offered for them to be wed in Helstone, but Margaret had known it would not do for one of the top men in Milton to simply disappear and re appear a married man.

"Yes. A spring wedding shall do very fine. I think I shall take Dolores to look at dressmakers when I return, I think she will enjoy that," Margaret replied.

"I should also see my lawyer, and start drawing up the terms of your settlement," he added with an impish grin.

"John! I am marrying you for yourself, not your money!"

"Well that is a relief my dear, for I do not have a great deal of it at present," his teasing expression slipped as he caught the worry in her eyes "Do not fret Margaret. I merely mean that while I am not destitute, the mill will still take some time to again turn the profits it once did. Mr Bell's investment saved us, do not mistake me, but it was not the end of all my cares. I will draw up some documents to reflect what I should be able to settle on you now and then maybe again increase it in the next few years. There is also the matter of some family jewellery that is now yours, as my wife. Mother could not bear to part with it, hard as things were"

He turned gloomy at the last part, and Margaret suddenly missed the cheerful grin that had been there but moments ago. She touched a hand to his cheek, and he gave her a small smile and leaned into her hand. Fred cleared his throat to remind them that they were not alone. Margaret then held her hand out to John, and he shook it, then rewarding her with another full smile.

"How far we have come, Miss Hale," he murmured. She blushed deeply and turned to fuss with her bag. Fred loaded their two small cases into the carriage, handed Margaret in and shook John's hand, and then smiled.

"I must say Mr Thornton. This is a much more pleasant occasion than the last time all three of us were gathered at a station!"

The Hales were rewarded with a sound few in Milton had ever heard or would ever hear - John Thornton's deep, mirthful laughter.

AN: I'm going through a bit of a slump so this chapter had to more or less be beaten out of me. I hope it is adequate. Stay tuned, the wedding bells be a ringing!

I love writing Fred and Margaret together.


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